


Pay it Forward

by MissLearn



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Accidental Rebel Leader! Kenobi, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Fix-It, Love, M/M, More people live than die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-09-20 02:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9470711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLearn/pseuds/MissLearn
Summary: A man broke a promise, a girl was left in the dark, and so began a series of events that "Old" Ben Kenobi wanted *nothing* to do with.





	1. Tatooine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hides behind laptop* I really didn't mean to start another multi-chapter fic... honestly! This was supposed to be an angsty little one-shot but it kept going and going... and now I have this massive *thing* that I don't really know what else to do with but share... so, here you go.
> 
> This one is an answer to the question: "What if Obi-Wan came out of hiding to rescue Jyn?" It begins in 12 BBY making Jyn ten when she is found, which differs from Rogue One where she was eight. I have done a ton of research to get my timeline right; however, as in all AU's the timeline will probably naturally deviate.
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely Krikkel, and I tumblr: @misslearn if you'd like to come say hi :)

 

_The fresh smell of rain, the suffocating darkness of the Empire, bright flashes of blaster fire, the soft whimper of a child, and an enchanting melody..._

Ben Kenobi’s eyes snapped open as he left his meditation in a rush. Taking in a deep breath, he re-orientated himself with his surroundings and was relieved to find that he was still sitting in front of his poorly made fire, deep within the Judland Wastes. For a fleeting moment he had been sure he was somewhere else. Somewhere rife with fear, and recent death.

 _It was just a vision,_ he told himself as he stared into a sky that was painted with stars; though, he knew that wasn’t quite right. It didn’t explain the bad feeling that roiled in the pits of his stomach, or the Force’s strange, insistent pull that threatened to sweep him off his feet. _Or_ , why both of which had been slowly getting worse all day long.

The forty-five-year-old desert-dwelling former Jedi had hoped to meditate it all away, but the once comforting waves of the Force had offered no peace. Instead his prescience had flared to life, gifting him with vivid feelings and colorful images that came and went in quick flashes. It all but screamed that something, somewhere in the galaxy was very _wrong,_ which he found rather disconcerting... Especially because the Force seemed to think that _he_ was going to do something about it.

Ben swiped at the strands of his graying hair with his hand as his gaze focused on the flickering flames of the dying fire. Its licks of red and orange brought back memories of another time and place, and the reasons for his isolation. Those same reasons were why he willed away the silent tug at his soul. No matter what the Force thought, he wasn’t that man anymore. That man had died on Mustafar eight years ago and what was left was bitter and tired. Plus, he had a duty here on Tatooine, and he planned to see it through to the very end.

“Ignoring the call will only make it louder,” a warm voice informed him, the deep tones echoing eerily in the stillness of the night.

Ben let out a long sigh, and wondered if there was _anywhere_ in the universe he could seek out for true solitude. For if it wasn't the Force, it was him, and if it wasn't him, it was a farmer or traveler or even his ward who had been led to Ben by the Force, or by him. And as much as he appreciated the company, he was one of last _beings_ that Ben wanted to see that night. Especially because he had undoubtedly come to debate Ben's decisions.

“Perhaps Master Yoda would like the benefit of your infinite wisdom tonight,” he replied, as he gracefully rose to his feet. He didn’t bother to acknowledge his visitor but instead set about snuffing out the fire with a bucket of sand.

The newcomer chuckled, “I’m afraid he’s rather fed up with my _wisdom._ Though he was much more diplomatic in his dismissal than you just were.”

Ben sighed again. “I’m tired,” he stated, not bothering to explain why.

“That has never been an acceptable excuse for poor manners," the voice chided as its owner walked into Ben’s line of sight. The towering blue Force ghost of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, _his_ old master, looked upon him with compassion etched in his features.

“My apologies, Master. Perhaps if you waited for an invitation you would receive a warmer reception on your arrival,” he countered coolly.

“Ah- well, that might explain why Yoda never seems to appreciate my visits,” the ghost mused thoughtfully, a small smile playing on his lips.

Ben let out yet another sigh. “Qui-Gon, I understand what you are trying to do but--”

“You would rather I leave you to drown in your sorrow?” he cut in sadly, “and yet my leaving has only ever dragged you down further.”

Ben tugged at his cloak, wrapping it tightly around him as the remaining warmth of the dying fire fled. “My failings are my own. If I handled my attachments better perhaps Ana-- _he_ would have learnt to handle his own and everything would be... different _.”_

 _Perhaps if I hadn’t loved him, or you, the galaxy wouldn’t have suffered so much,_ Ben thought.

“If _Anakin’s_ or _your_ attachments are to blame for what happened then the responsibility falls on my shoulders, not yours.” His old Master told him as he reached out to touch Ben’s cheek. “But I don’t want to have this argument again, Obi-Wan. That is not why I’m here.”

Ben turned away from the whisper of a touch and closed his eyes. It was like a cruel joke, after longing for the man's company and advice for years, when he was finally granted it, all he wanted was the man’s touch.

“Then, at least let us get inside. Force knows I need a cup of tea, if not something stronger... especially so if you are here to ask more of me,” Ben said as he eyed the ghost warily. He waited, perhaps out of nostalgia or long trained habit, for his Master to give a nod. Then, he packed up his things and began up the sandy track, towards the small hovel he called home.

It was not a long walk and once they were inside Ben went straight to the small kitchenette and set about making his tea. As he worked, he felt his Master’s eyes follow him. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, in fact it was a reminder of better times, at least until his mind moved on from his apprenticeship to his knighting, to his apprentice. Then, he would sink deeper into his despair.

“I would make you one…” he muttered, shaking himself out of his thoughts as he poured boiling water into his teapot.

“But it’s rather pointless? It's alright Obi-Wan. I’m sorry if my staring has bothered you. I did always like watching you make tea,” Qui-Gon confessed.

There was an unusual shyness to his voice that made Ben glance over at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Not long after our mission on Cirrus, I noticed that you alter the procedure for brewing each of the different types that you enjoy. From then on, every time you made tea for us I would attempt to guess which type you were making from the water to tea ratio, how long you left it to brew and whether you added milk or sugar,” the ghost admitted fondly. "It became a personal challenge of sorts."

Ben smiled. “Which explains why, whenever I asked you for your preference, you always said--”

“Surprise me,” the ghost finished, smiling back. “I had planned to ask you to teach me after you were knighted. I always enjoyed the cups you made far more than my own.”

Ben took a sip of his finished tea and sighed in relief as the relaxing warmth spread through him, calming his buzzing nerves and replacing the bad feeling with content. But it didn’t last, and soon not even the tea or cherished memories of his apprenticeship could distract him from the present. The pull of the Force was too strong.

“So, do enlighten me,” he started, as he settled into a lean against the counter, his cup nursed in his hands. “Why does the Force want me to race across the galaxy as though my life depends on it?”

Qui-Gon frowned, clearly unhappy about the subject changing so soon, and as soon as he began speaking Ben understood thr hesitation… and his own bad feeling.

“There’s a child, a girl--”

There was a crash as the teacup Ben was holding slipped from his fingers and hit the ground. Steaming tea and shattered pieces of ceramic flew across the floor.

“Blast it all…” Ben muttered, turning back to the kitchenette to grab the dishcloth, and then dropping down to one knee in order to mop up.

“Obi-Wan--”

“ _Please,_ just… _don’t!”_ he begged. He stared at the broken cup with tears in his eyes, wishing he could get his hands to still, wishing he could get in a breath.

Ben closed his eyes and forced himself to focus on his breathing. As he slowly inhaled and exhaled he let go of as much of the emotion as possible. It was almost impossible to function with the sadness he carried in his heart. Especially, when it rose up from the depths in which he had buried it.

“I can’t train another Master. _Please_ don’t ask me to... I-- _Kriff it all!_ No wonder you didn't want _me!_ ” he cried, suddenly truly understanding the reasons for their mess of a beginning.

“I didn’t,” the ghost agreed, “but you helped me heal, dear one.”

“Be that as it may, Xanatos was not quite in the same _league_ as An- _Ana-kin…_ ” he said, and upon realizing his mistake he held up his hand before his guest could argue the point. “I don’t mean it hurt any less, just that when Anakin fell he took every- the Temp-le with him,” he explained, having to force out the words. “The Force may have me guide young Luke one day, which I will do out of... for his _Father_... but I will _not_ take another Padawan.”

The ghost nodded quietly, his face revealing his own heartbreak at seeing the younger, living, man in such as state. “I understand Obi-Wan,” he whispered, moving closer but seeming to know instinctively that an echo of a touch would not help right now.

“But?” Ben snapped as he stood up and moved to put the pieces of the broken cup in the garbage.

“The only ‘but’ is that you should not be torturing yourself over the actions of another. Anakin was no longer a child when he chose his path, and even if mistakes were made… the burden of his choices are not yours to bear. This selfish self-imposed penance is ridiculo--”

“Selfish!” Ben interrupted, suddenly furious. “If I had inclination to be selfish, Qui-Gon, then I would have thrown myself into that lava to burn beside Anakin! And now! _Now_! I could hardly be considered indulgent. I live in the middle of the desert and spend my days watching over the child of a man who all but destroyed me, and looking after the strays that the Force, or you, wish to bring to me. Perhaps if I had solitude, or peace… or even _sleep_ , maybe then this would be selfish.” He closed his eyes, his sudden anger shifting aside so that infinite sadness could take its place. “And what good am I to the galaxy really, Qui-Gon. I helped create the weapon that destroyed it and I wasn't strong enough to stop it when I had the chance. Now, I would only be putting it at further risk. _It-_ he- _Anakin- Vader_ would destroy systems to take my life... I don’t think I can handle any more deaths on my shoulders…”

“They would not be your burden to bear," Qui-Gon told him, sagely.

“After what I did? I can hardly lay the blame of his anger for me and the resulting actions on anyone else... I only wish he understood that...” he trailed off as he dropped into one of the chairs and placed his head in his hands.

“That taking your life would be a mercy,” Qui-Gon finished gently.

“It would be a gift,” he muttered. “And if that doesn't make me an unsuitable candidate to care for another child then I don't know what does.”

“Then don’t.”

“What?” Ben said, raising his head to look at the ghost, clearly surprised.

“Don't care for her. Rescue her, and find her somewhere safe where she can learn and grow. She is Force sensitive but not significantly so… her future will remain intact regardless of whether she is trained as a Jedi, so long as someone finds her.”

Ben let out a small sigh. His old Master was making it sound simple and that meant it would probably be anything but. And yet, even with that knowledge, he couldn't help but give in to his curiosity. “Alright, I'll bite, who is she? Why her? Why now?” he asked.

A small smile made its way onto his old Master's lips and his eyes twinkled. “Her name is Jyn. She was hidden from the Empire, and is waiting to be found… but the man her family put their faith in is no longer coming. If no one goes to her, she will die Obi-Wan, and the lighter paths of the future will fade,” Qui-Gon replied cryptically.  

The ghost's obscurity was not unusual, but that made it no less frustrating. Though, Ben did understand one point that his old Master was trying to make. “She’s a shatterpoint?” he guessed, his hand now absently stroking his beard.

“A large one, yes. Without her there is a chance that the path that Luke is destined to walk will disappear," Qui-Gon replied.

Ben suddenly looked pained as his thoughts returned to the boy who shone brighter in the Force than the twin suns did over Tatooine. “And what of young Luke. Who will look out for him in my absence?”

“I will remain to watch over him, and you can warn the Lars'. Though I cannot imagine Vader would pay much mind to a boy on a backwater planet if he suddenly receives reports of his old Master popping up across the galaxy.”

Ben closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “So long as he doesn't find that this was where I was hiding.” He dropped his hands into his lap, feeling lost. Why did it have to be him? Surely he had done enough. Surely there was someone _better._ “I don't like this Qui-Gon. There must be someone else. Yoda and I were not the only ones to survive…”

“The others are already walking the paths the Force has laid out for them,” Qui-Gon replied.

Ben took in a sharp breath and closed his eyes. The words weren't said to cause pain, but they stung none-the-less. He was already on a path too. One that he had believed was the will of the Force… but perhaps it was simply him trying desperately to make amends for what he did to Anakin. Maybe he had become selfish. Or, perhaps, it was just a matter of not having the ability to care anymore. Caring had only ever led him to heartbreak, and he wasn't sure that he could live with any more sadness. There was already _so_ much.

“If you will not treat this as an opportunity to move forward Obi-Wan then see it as your reparations to a galaxy lost,” the ghost sighed as he looked upon him with mirrored sadness.

“I want none of this.” Ben said honestly, his voice thick with sorrow and _defeat._

“I know, dear one, I know.”


	2. Coruscant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of notes:  
> 1.Thank you to everyone who commented etc - you are all amazing and I can't tell you how much your feedback means to me!  
> 2\. I am using this map [here](https://www.google.com.au/search?q=star+wars+planet+map&safe=off&prmd=isvn&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwik6uuDpubRAhUHJZQKHdR5CikQ_AUIBygB&biw=360&bih=559#imgrc=22kSreJxQitonM%3A) to navigate the travels across the galaxy.  
> 3\. The Quiobi-ness is obviously a little complicated and will be a little slow/minor for a while, but we will get there ;)  
> 4\. Lastly, it's unbeta'd. Feel free to point out anything I've missed!

 A young Togruta female, known as Fulcrum, was carefully hidden among the shadows in the upper levels of Coruscant's Imperial Hangar. She was frozen, watching on awe-struck as a man who she believed long dead tore through the Imperial guard.

With two blue lightsabers in his hands, the man moved with the speed of a sand-panther and the grace of a dancer. A blur of azure light surrounded him as he sliced through blasters and deflected the shower of blaster fire with skill she hadn’t seen in a warrior since the Clone Wars. 

 _I should have known he was alive,_ Fulcrum thought sadly, regretting the time they had lost. She hadn’t even looked, assuming that he had died in the attack on the Temple.  _But why has it taken him this long?_

The answer hit her like a slap in the face. She closed her eyes as her heart constricted and her breath caught. The second blue lightsaber… it was  _her_ Master’s.

It belonged to Anakin Skywalker.  

A gasped “no-” escaped her lips and tears began to stream down her cheeks. No matter how many times she had told herself that her Skyguy must have died during the massacre in the Jedi Temple, she hadn’t quite been able to let go of hope. Hope that he had escaped. That he was alive, hiding out on an outer-rim planet somewhere, maybe working as a mechanic, or racing pod-racers, biding time until he could return and help them get rid of the Emperor. But. Now she knew that it was just a foolish dream.

Fulcrum’s heart lurched as she glanced down at the Jedi. She could imagine how hard thathad hit the man. He and Anakin had been so much more than Master and Padawan; they had been  _the team,_ two parts of one whole. More than that, Obi-Wan had been Anakin’s brother-turned-father-turned-brother-again… and he had loved her Master as much as she had- if not more.  

Fulcrum watched as the Master sent a powerful Force push at a group of troopers that slammed them into the wall, knocking them all unconscious. Having cleared a path, he sprinted along one of the narrow, lower-level catwalks towards a prepped TIE fighter. Although she didn’t want to hinder his escape, she also didn’t want him to go on thinking he was alone. Even if now wasn’t their moment, she wanted him to know that she had made it… because she knew he had cared for her as much as he did for Anakin. So, she very lightly reached out with the Force, brushing his presence with hers.  

The Jedi froze mid-climb. Thankfully he knew better than to turn and look at her (she didn’t want was left of the Imperial Guard turning on her), but instead reached back to her with the Force. She felt another wave of tears stream down her cheeks as his warmth and light embraced hers. She felt his overwhelming joyat finally knowing she was alive, hisconcernfor her safety (she could almost hear him telling her how reckless this was) and his regretthat there was no time for a reunion. Then, he withdrew and swung himself the rest of the way into the fighter.

 _\--I’ve missed you, Master Kenobi--_ she sent, not entirely sure that he would hear. Their bond was minor, and she had never been able to communicate with him like she had her Master… but she hoped...

 _\--And I you, young Ahsoka--_ he sent back.

The Togruta had to cover her mouth with her hands to stop herself from laughing. She suddenly felt alivein a way she hadn’t in years! She had to talk to Bail. If Obi-Wan Kenobi was in this fight maybe they could move their plans forward. After all, if anyone could unite the rebel factions, surely it was the famous Jedi Negotiator.

 _I’m going to need proof,_ she thought as she glanced up at the Hangar’s security cameras.   _I’m going to need…_

Her plans stalled as she watched the TIE Fighter launch into the air. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock when she realized what he had just done.

“ _Kriffing hell!”_ she swore.  _“_ He just stole  _Vader's_ ship!” Then she grinned, her blue eyes suddenly alight with fire.

_Oh, it is on!_

 

* * *

 

Ben groaned when the TIE Fighter's tracking beacon came to life.

Things were  _not_ going well.

He should have expected this, in fact, he did remember thinking for a mere moment that this…  _mission_ , wouldn’t be as simple as Qui-Gon suggested it could be. When it came to Ben, things were nevereasy. His entire life he had been a magnet for trouble and, somehow, during his absence his susceptibility to falling into the most ridiculous of situations seemed to have become worse _._ It was almost as though the Force thought he had been on some sort of vacation! Like he had  _years_ worth of  _work_ to catch up on so it was going to throw everything it wanted fixed at him… all at once.

The forty-five-year-old ran a shaky hand through his hair. To be fair, the start of his journey hadbeen relatively simple. After being informed by his old Master that he had just over a week before the girl would run out of supplies, and that she could be found on an outer rim planet called Lah’mu, he had set off straight away. Not wanting to go directly to his destination, he had found a pilot in the Mos Espa Cantina that was leaving that day for Bothawui and mind-tricked his way on board. On his arrival on the Mid-Rim planet, he immediately found passage to Nar Shadaa on a large passenger liner.

Ben stayed on the sordid moon for two cycles while he built himself a new identity. He purchased new clothes - a black long sleeved shirt, brown leather jacket that had soft a cotton hood sewed into it, a pair of black denym pants and black ankle boots - tossing the simple farmers outfit he had traded his robes for back on Tatooine. He gambled for and won himself new Imperial identification papers, and then played sabacc in one of the run-down casinos until he had won so much money that the bouncers accused him of cheating and threw him out. After mind-tricking a number of pilots into thinking they had taken him to different worlds (just in case Vader found him and attempted to find out where he had been), he finally felt ready to board another transport ship.

The Force hadn’t stopped its nudging. It was still pointing him in the direction of the girl… but for all its insistence, it didn't seem to mind throwing a few detours his way. Ones that began when he jumped onto the next ship.

The VCX-100 light freighter was supposed to be taking him to Onderon… but, they never made it. Half-way through the trip, after an unplanned stop to refuel, the pilot changed their route, and before Ben had realized what was happening they were landing in the Imperial Hangar on Coruscant!  _Coruscant!_ His heart had almost stopped when, for a terrifying moment, he thought his cover had been blown  _already._  But, the reasons for their detour turned out to be much more sinister.

Unbeknownst to the rest of his crew, the pilot of the transport was smuggling kidnapped Force-sensitive children. When he and the young Twi-lek co-pilot approached him about their unscheduled stop, the man had admitted that Empire  _paid_ those cruel enough to trade them handsomely, and their pilot was apparently one of the most successful, and thus, favored, traders.

Admittably, his biggest mistake was that he offered to give the co-pilot (he never did catch her name) and Ben a cut in the profits. The former Jedi had been  _so_ outraged that, before he’d had time to  _think,_ he'd thrown the pilot into the storm troopers and launched into the task of distracting the Imperials so that the young co-pilot (who had also been appalled by her collegue’s actions) could escape with the children. Naturally, that meant he had to tear the place apart with his, and Anakin’s, lightsabers.

There had been something quite incredible about taking up arms again. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had decided to bring Anakin’s ‘saber with him but it felt so right. He felt whole for the first time in years. Plus, there was some sort of poetic justice in fighting the Emperor’s (and  _Vader’s)_ men with Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber.  

It wasn’t until after that he realized just how big a target he had painted on his back… but he couldn’t quite find it in himself to regret it. The Force-Sensitive children were safe,  _and_ he had found an old friend.

 _Ahsoka_.

What a surprise that had been. Just sensing the young woman had thread a stitch in the open wound that he had been ailing him for the past nine years. He hadn’t dared hope that she had made it but he was so pleased to knowbefore he returned to his exile. He had been sure that Ana-  _Vader_ would have hunted her down, and it was a credit to her skills that she was still alive.

_She was taught well._

Taking in a deep breath he pushed the thought aside, and focused on the present. It had concerned him that, of all the places in the galaxy, he had felt her presence in the Imperial Hangar. She hadn’t felt dark, and there was no ill-intent when she reached out for him, so he assumed that meant she was working for one of the rebel cells that strangers whispered about in the dark corners of the cantinas on Tatooine and Nal Hutta. It made him worry for her but he was also so damn proud.

He only wished that he had the time to tell her so, but he had been, quite… busy... escaping in that moment.

Truth be told, stealing Anak-  _Vader’s_ ship had not been part of the plan. Technically, he hadchosen to do so (as soon as he landed in the cockpit he had recognized the tainted presence of his former Padawan), but it wasn’t as if he had time to pick a different ship. And it had been the only one that was unlocked and ready to go. Unfortunately, taking the Sith Apprentice’s ship had severely complicated matters. Mostly, because it was tracked; and now that the beacon had been turned on, he knew that the moment he left hyperspace, every Imperial ship in whichever sector he arrived in would begin chasing him.

It was a slight problem.

Suddenly sensing a familiar presence in the back of his mind, Ben sighed. “I will remind you that you promised to remain focused on Luke,” he admonished, though there was no heart in it. “However, I will admit, that your all-knowing, ghostly advice would be welcome.”

 _“As we discussed, I am able to be many places at once. It is the advantage of being one with the Force, Obi-Wan." Hi_ s Former Master answered in his mind, the whispered words travelling down an impossible bond.  _“As for advice... I recommend that you go to Dantooine.”_

Ben frowned. “But... in order to do so I will have to drop out of hyperspace and calculate a new jump.”

 _“Yes, you will,”_ the ghost agreed, not offering any further information.

“Fine,” Ben sighed, quietly wondering if he would ever be able to say no to the man and truly mean it. “What about the youngling?”

_“Everything is as it should be. There is still time…”_

Ben’s eyes narrowed. Of course there would be time  _now._  “That is quite the answer, Qui-Gon,” he noted. There was only three days left by his count, though, he couldn’t be sure whether the Force ghost had factored these…  _detours_ … into his deadline.

Ben frowned, one thing he did know was that whatever this was, it was  _not_ what he had agreed to.

 

* * *

 

Darth Vader stood in front of the Executor’s comm console with his hands clasped behind his back as he waited for his Master’s call to be patched through. He was frustrated by the interruption to his mission, but he had felt somethingstirring in the Force and he found himself wondering if Sidious might shed some light on what it was.  

Vader bowed low when the transparent, blue holo of the Emperor, his Master, appeared before him.

“Lord Vader,” the clipped voice snapped, revealing that the man was not at all  _pleased_ by whatever news he brought.

“What is thy bidding, my Master?”

“I have a new mission for you,” the Emperor replied.

Vader scowled under his mask, he hadn’t finished the one he was on and he was quite invested. “Of course, Master,” he said, struggling to keep his anger from his deep tones.

“Do not  _fret,_ my apprentice, I do believe you will find this mission to be far more appealing,” he said ominously, a small, dark smirk playing on his thin lips. “There has been an attack on the Imperial Hangar, on Coruscant.”

Vader’s interest was piqued. As far as he knew there was not a rebel cell organised enough to launch an attack in the Imperial Center. Any previous attempts had been thwarted by Imperial intelligence before they had moved past the planning stages. He had to admit that the Rebels involved had been quite bold, they must know they would pay dearly for such a move.

“I am shocked that there are those who would oppose the Empire so openly.”

“I am afraid there is more. During the attack, one of our advanced TIE fighters was stolen,” the Emperor added, mildly.

Darth Vader’s eyes narrowed inside his mask and his anger spiked. So far the Imperial navy had only  _one_ Advanced TIE Fighter, a prototype, one that hehad designed… and it belonged to  _him._ The Sith Apprentice breathed through his nose as a burning fury swept through him.

“On your word, I will hunt those responsible down and extract  _our_ revenge,” he promised.

“Indeed,” The Emperor agreed. He looked almost amused which only proved to further infuriate Vader. “But all our evidence suggests it was a single man, working alone… a Jedi…”

Vader’s sudden violent rage erupted into the Force, making all those on the Executor’s Bridge cower. _There is only one Jedi that would be so reckless,_ he thought. Though, he couldn’t fathom why the man would come out of hiding  _now._

“I will deal with this,” he stated, his voice dark with ire.

“See that you do.”


	3. Kamino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few quick notes before you dive in:  
> -Thank you everyone who reviewed/kudos'd/bookmarked. You guys make my day!  
> -A lovely reader informed me that Lah'mu is located near Dantooine. I am trying to integrate canon and legends as much as possible so I have updated the previous chapter to work with this.  
> -The "anti-Imperial clones' and the situation on Kamino that you will read about in this chapter comes from the game 'Star Wars Battlefront'. If you would like to know more look up the 'Kamino Uprising' on wookiepedia.  
> -Big thanks to @krikkel over on tumblr for the beta read (You are an absolute star!).  
> -And you can find me on tumblr [here](http://misslearn.tumblr.com/) if you want to come say hi :)

 

When Ben finally found the courage to drop out of hyperspace, he could hardly believe where he was. Barking out a laugh, he carefully navigated through the orbiting asteroid field heading towards the aquatic planet. The feeling of deja vu made his head spin as his memories danced with his reality. Out of all the systems in the galaxy he _would_ arrive _here_. And, of course, the planet would be surrounded by Imperial starships, who _had_ noticed him.

 _Kamino,_ he thought bitterly, wishing he had never rediscovered the damned world.

Ben quickly typed in the new jump coordinates hoping he could escape before the Empire reacted to his presence. He could feel anticipation in the Force and knew they were prepping squadrons of TIE fighters. Vader would undoubtedly know by now exactly who stole his ship and he was certain that the Imperials would not hold back. He couldn't imagine that whoever was in charge would want to be the one to inform the Dark Lord that the Jedi had managed to escape.

Ben's radio suddenly sounded, crackling and buzzing with static as a mayday was called. He frowned at the desperation in the voice. A voice that had a very familiar Mandalorian accent.

_“To any nearby Rebel forces. Kamino is under attack. I repeat, Kamino is under Attack. Anti-Imperial Clones have engaged Imperials. Requesting immediate assistance.”_

“Anti-Imperial Clones?” Ben repeated. His brow furrowed and a frown graced his lips. The Force surged around him, _pointing_ \-- _pulling_ \-- but he shook his head. “I am not leading an uprising, Qui-Gon,” he stated firmly to the man whose presence had lingered, despite Ben’s request for him to leave.

 _“It wouldn’t be the first,”_ Qui-Gon countered evenly.

“I thought I was going to Dantooine, then rescuing the girl on Lah’mu?”

 _“The future is always in motion,”_ Qui-Gon replied, his baritone quivering with his amusement.

Obi-Wan frowned. “The future... You know, I'm beginning to think that all has very little to do with the Force and a lot to do with a meddlesome Jedi Master,” he muttered in reply.

 _“I don’t know what you mean, dear one, Master Yoda has all but retired,”_ Qui-Gon retorted before his presence faded away, leaving Ben alone with his choice.

_“Any nearby Rebel Forces, this is the Tipioca City Cloning Facility on Kamino - we are under attack from the Empire and are requesting urgent assistance. If anyone is out there - please help us.”_

“Oh for stars' sake,” Ben groaned before swinging around the TIE fighter and pressing into the controls. If he was going to survive this he was going to have to do this Skywalker style. That is, recklessly rush into the enemies blockade at an insane speed, shoot down as many enemy ships as possible (keeping count as you do), and survive long enough to crash land on the planet. It wasn’t his preferred way of working, but he had limited options… and he was feeling rather nostalgic.

Ben had second thoughts when he realized just how fast Vader's fighter could go. He should have known that Ana- the Sith lord would have upgraded his own ship...“But really Anakin, this is insane!” he cried as he spun the fighter to avoid the emerald blasts from the star cruiser he was passing.

A squadron of TIE fighters appeared to his left so he slammed the controls forward diving towards the planet and flipping around in a tight loop-the-loop which lead two of his enemies into the path of the star cruiser’s fire. He ducked his fighter down and flew tightly against the side of the star cruiser, maneuvering evasively as the chasing TIEs fired at him.

Ben managed to lose another two fighters to ‘friendly fire’ as one was hit by the cruiser’s ion cannons and crashed into the other fighter.

Before he reached the very front of the cruiser he turned hard left, leaning into the controls so he was flying at full speed. He shot through space and into the planet’s atmosphere, thankful for the Force’s guidance as he launched straight into an electrical storm. He could barely see through the cloud and rain that hammered his (uh- Vader’s) ship as he circled around to take out one of the chasing TIE fighters. When a lightning strike took out another he found himself reassessing his earlier conclusion. Perhaps this truly was the Force’s will...

Suddenly, another fighter appeared out of nowhere and its fire hit his left wing. Cursing, he locked onto it and fired, thankful that he was able to bring it down before it could flip over and begin another run. He barely managed to avoid it as it exploded just ahead of him, forcing him to dive towards the ocean below. Dragging the controls back towards himself he managed to pull up just enough that he was falling in the direction of the cloning facilities of Tipioca city.

Ben’s heart raced as the ship approached the watery surface. He gripped the controls tightly and closed his eyes as the TIE crashed through the waves and disappeared into the dark, clouded depths. As memories of another time and another place flashed before his eyes he exhaled slowly, letting it all go and focusing on the present. Blue-grey eyes shot open and he quickly unbuckled his webbing. After a long breath in, he slammed his fist into the button that ejected the viewscreen. Using Force to push himself up, he rushed out of the reach of the drag caused by the sinking ship. Then his hand moved to his throat as he called on the Force to help him hold his breath and he kicked hard until he broke the surface.

Gasping, Ben struggled to get in air as rain bucketed down from above and huge, unmerciful waves crashed over him. The ocean churned around him, pushing and pulling him up and under. It was a fight just to stay afloat, and swimming towards the large pylons that held up the facility platforms seemed impossible. Diving down under the waves he basked in the calm quiet the water below offered. It was divine, and for a single moment he felt the temptation of just letting go, of surrendering to the ocean and falling into the comforting arms of the Force where he could finally be at rest with the one he loved.

 _But not yet,_ he told himself as an image of a young girl waiting for him flashed before his eyes followed quickly by one of a blonde boy. For now, he had to keep fighting.

Resurfacing, Ben set his sights on the long ladder that ran up the side of the nearest permacrete pylon and began swimming towards it with a brisk stroke and a powerful kick. It took a great deal of effort to swim in the roiling water, even more to drag himself up the slippery rungs, and by the time he reached the hatch at the top of the ladder he was exhausted. Kata and long hikes through the desert clearly hadn’t been enough exercise to prepare himself for this endeavor. Not that he _knew_ he would be gallivanting across the galaxy once more.

Pausing, the forty-five-year-old allowed himself a few minutes of meditation to help him restore his energy before he threw open the hatch and Force jumped up onto the platform and into the battle. He began running towards the buildings as soon as he landed, his and Anakin’s lightsabers coming to life as he ran. It instantly drew more fire his way, but it also identified who the enemy was, and he was pleased to note that only one group seemed to be firing at him.

As he sped along the cat-walk between the platform and the facility he made a quick assessment of his surroundings. At least two companies of clone troopers (those he assumed to be anti-Imperial clones) were set up outside the building, desperately defending it against a flow of troopers that were marching out of four separate Low Altitude Assault Transports. The defending clones had most certainly been made on site which he assumed meant that the Empire had either stopped paying, or stopped ordering.

When he reached the defensive line he spun and deflected enough fire that the attacking group slowed in its advance. On closer inspection he suddenly realized that he was facing a detachment of the 501st. He faltered, anxiety swelling in his chest as he reached out with the Force to see if Ana- Vader was there too. He was about ninety percent certain that he would have felt the dark one’s presence before now, but he couldn’t afford to give Vader the advantage of surprise. After two sweeps with the Force, he was extremely relieved to find that the Sith apprentice was not on-planet... at least, not yet.

 _Thank the Force_ , he thought. Although he knew it was inevitable, he was not yet ready to face his former student. But if it’s not him leading the 501st, then who?

Returning his focus to the battle he glanced around taking in the ships that had been docked. Then he groaned inwardly when he spotted a Firespray-31-class craft with the label ‘Slave I’ painted on the side hidden behind one of the Low Altitude Assault Transports.

“Boba Fett,” he muttered. How he wished he had found that child after the Battle of Geonosis and made sure that he was given a safe home and happier life. Even if they had managed to get him in custody after he tried to blow up Mace and Anakin there would be a chance that he wouldn’t be working for the Imperials now. But, as Qui-Gon liked to remind him, constantly running over what-ifs was not helping anyone. He really had to keep moving forward.

“Lieutenant!” he yelled at a nearby clone trooper as he continued to deflect the fire. “Who is in charge here?”

“Captain Kane, General,” the Lieutenant answered. Ben’s eyebrow’s shot up at the use of the title. It had been a very long time since he had been a General, and he really had no desire to take up the mantle once again.

“Ben,” he corrected, leaping so that he was standing beside the man, behind a large storage container. “Where can I find the Captain?” he asked.

“He is escorting the cloner masters to their ship, si- Ben,” the trooper replied before he leaned out and shot a few of the attacking clones. “An evac has been called but we can’t leave, sir. Chances of us getting out are slim,” he said as he returned, pressing his back against the cool metal of the box.

“How many of you are there?” Ben asked.

“I’m not sure how many of us are still alive - that Bounty hunter got inside and I’ve had reports that he is killing everyone - but there were three companies of us made without the chip and Imperial conditioning.”

Obi-Wan had closed his eyes at the mention of Fett but now they were wide open and his face was lined with confusion. “Chip?”

“The inhibitor chips, the ones that force the clones to do as the Emperor wills."

Obi-Wan grimaced. Well that explained why Order Sixty-Six was so effective. It also explained why… Cody… Obi-Wan breathed out his emotion in a single breath, though he couldn’t quite shake the question: did Anakin know? Surely the former slave boy buried deep within Vader would object vehemently to the idea of the clones having chips in their head that denied them their free will. He sighed, if he did then he was truly lost… but the sad reality was that he probably never questioned why the clones had turned against their Generals. He most likely latched onto the support that reinforced the “rightness” of his own choices.

“Oh, Anakin,” he muttered, bringing his hand to his face to cover his eyes. He let himself wallow in despair for a single moment before he forced himself to let it all go.

 _There are people who need me here,_ he reminded himself.

“I’m going to see if I can stop the Bounty Hunter, do you think you and your men can hold this line?” he asked the trooper, as he flung himself back behind the box after exchanging fire.

“Yes sir! Uh- I mean - Ben” he said, saluting.

“Also, if you can, get in contact with the cloner masters and stop them before they commence evac. There are too many Imperial ships in orbit. If they manage to make it into the air, they will only get shot down once they reach the outer-atmosphere.”

The Troopers face dropped. “So what are we supposed to do then?”

“Let me worry about that for now,” Obi-Wan muttered, hoping that a solution would present itself. “Just hold this position for as long as you can. Fall back into the building if you have to… no sacrifices…”

The trooper nodded, his eyes full of gratitude which made Obi-Wan bite back a sigh. If the Republic hadn’t fallen then this would have been stopped years ago. How many Clones had lived and died to “defend” the Empire’s ideals? How many were dying here to defend a small sect of rebels?

As much as he respected the need for the cloner masters to rebel, how dare they do it so unethically! They should not have brought these clones into the world. If they wanted to fight they should made sure the Empire could no longer clone itself soldiers, not create more young sentients to send into battle. No one’s purpose should be war.

“May the Force be with you,” Ben said kindly, saluting the man with his lightsaber. Turning on his heel he ran, deflecting blaster fire as he went, until he reached the entry to the facility. Barging in, he raced through the bright white halls, memories of another time and place flashing before him as he followed the fearful screams and battle cries from the floors above. Panicked clones ran past him, back into the fray he had just left. Ben hoped that they managed to hold their position. If they were forced out into the open he had no doubt it would turn into a slaughter, and if they pushed inside they would undoubtedly be picked off one by one. 

The Force screamed at him to move faster. Turning on its command he launched himself up the center of the stairwell, using three powerful Force jumps to get him to the floor where he could feel the echoes of death. Then, he raced through the halls, letting the Force guide him towards the clone whom he knew would be dressed in Mandolorian armor.

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s just a job,” twenty-year-old Boba Fett told himself as he blasted another Anti-Imperial Clone, leaving him face down in a pool of his own blood. “If I don’t do it someone else will,” he said as he slammed his elbow into another. “What the kriff was wrong with the cloners anyways,” he growled as he blasted another in the chest. “Who in Corellian hells thinks they beat the Empire at their own game. Don’t they know that Palpatine has been in this for twenty years?” he cried as he swung his blaster into the head of another clone. “Kriffing sithspawn!

“They aren’t even trained properly,” he added angrily as he looked back down at the blood-splattered, white-walled hall that was littered with bodies. Having cleared the floor he pulled of his helmet and shook out his sweat soaked hair. He was hot and bothered, and it wasn’t because of the layers of his beskar'gam. He was furious with the job. Yeah he had killed clones before, but they had all been well-trained opponents. This was more like a slaughter, and that hadn’t been in the job description.

“Perhaps you would like to fight someone who is then?” someone behind him said; someone with a pompous-ass, High Coruscanti accent. It was somehow familiar... and not in a good way. Though, the voice itself was nowhere near as terrifying as the two snap-hisses that followed the well-pronounced words.

Boba spun around, dropping his helmet so he could raise his weapon at the newcomer. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled in a snarl as he glanced over the man before him.

The bounty hunter knew instantly who he was. He would never forget the man who turned his life on its head all those years ago, the man whose stupid actions led to the death of his father.

“You’re prettier in your wanted poster, Kenobi,” he observed.

The Jedi’s brows shot up, “Really? I thought the holo was rather terrible. Though, I suppose I ought to be grateful, it could be why I haven’t yet been found.”

“The reward’ll be the same, no matter what you look like,” Boba noted slyly, although he didn’t feel quite as confident as he was trying to come across.

“You are quite right,” Kenobi agreed mildly.

Boba frowned, feeling even less confident than before. Warily, he eyed the two blue lightsabers wondering what the odds of him were of him living through a fight with the man. Not that he was scared or anything. He just had a policy of not entering battles that he couldn’t win. “What are you doing here anyway?” he asked, buying himself some time.

“I would have thought that was obvious,” the Jedi replied.

Boba glared, remembering why he kriffing hated Jedi. “It isn’t,” he snapped, wondering if he could switch his weapon into its flame-thrower mode without the Jedi noticing.

“I am simply answering a distress signal,” he explained.

“Why?” the bounty hunter asked, disbelief lacing his tones.

“Because it’s the right thing to do," Kenobi offered.

Boba gaped at the man for a moment, and then decided he must be lying. No one helped anyone these days… especially when there was nothing to gain. “You working with anyone?” he asked, suddenly wondering if there were other Jedi around. He wouldn’t want to kill this one only to come face to face with another.

Kenobi gave him a long look. “That is yet to be seen.”

It took a moment for what the old man was saying to actually sink in. “You can’t seriously be thinking of asking me to join you?!” Here he was trying to work out if he could kill the man, while said man was wasting his time thinking about his usefulness as an ally.

“I haven’t ruled it out,” Kenobi admitted honestly. “I overheard your comments before - you don’t really like what this ‘bounty’ of yours has become, do you?”

“The money’s good,” he muttered, annoyed that the Jedi had heard his mutterings. It was no wonder he was so damn self-confident. He probably thought Boba was karking weak.

“I see,” Kenobi said coolly, and he flinched involuntarily at the tone. Although, the disgust he felt towards his own killing was quickly swept away by his anger, and in one rage-fueled moment he hefted up his weapon and pulled the trigger. But nothing happened. He blinked when he realized that the end of the gun had been cleanly sliced through and the positions of the Jedi’s lightsabers had changed just slightly.

 _Kriff me_ he thought as he held up the end of the weapon to inspect the damage.

“Will you at least hear out my proposal?” he asked, as he deactivated his lightsabers.

Boba scowled at the Jedi while he tried to decide how to proceed. If he signed up with the Jedi he was signing his own death certificate. This man was number one on Vader’s hit list and he didn’t want that kind of attention. But, that didn’t make the man in front of him any less deadly, even if he wasn’t as frightening as tall, dark and wheezy. Glancing again at the end of his weapon as he slowly lowered it, he figured he had no choice.

“Make it quick,” he barked.

The Jedi smirked. “The job is quite simple. You order the 501st to stand down, then you help me get the clones, all of them, and the cloner masters off this planet and to the rebels.”

Boba gaped at the man, wondering if he was for real. “Simple?” He repeated, incredulously.

Kenobi quirked an eyebrow. “I doubt it will be too difficult. I imagine that the Imperials aren’t used to people turning on them. They will be quite surprised,” he muttered. “Of course, the alternative is probably more challenging. You won’t be able to collect your bounty dead and I will have a much harder time rounding up the clones and getting off planet without you.”

“What’s the money like?”

The Jedi blinked, and then laughed. He laughed so hard that there were tears in his eyes.

“It’s not funny. If I help you with this, if I let the clones and the cloner masters go, the Emperor and Lord Vader will bring the Empire down on me! I’ll need money to get myself a ticket as far into wild space as any pilot is willing to venture.”

“Surely you have more than enough credits tucked away for exactly that,” the Jedi said. “You are not stupid Boba.”

Boba glared at him and decided it was time to call the man’s bluff. If he was truly the Jedi that he was rumored to be, there was no way he would kill the bounty hunter. “If you can’t pay, then I ain’t doing it. I don’t work charity cases,” he spat finally, even though he felt his heart lurch and his stomach knot.

The Jedi’s face dropped, he clipped his ‘sabers to his belt then let out a long sigh. “Are you happy, young one?”

The bounty hunter frowned, “What?”

“The work you do, the money you earn, the choices you’ve made… do they make you happy?”

“What does it matter?” Boba spat.

“Because all I can truly offer you is a different path. One where you may find happiness.”

Boba frowned. “You don’t look like you know anything about happiness.”

“Ah, if only it was true. I think you’ll agree that misery is far, far worse if one has known happiness…”

Boba’s heart wrenched and threw his hands up in the air. “Happiness!” he spat, “all this is going to end up bringing me is my death… and it’ll be on you.”

“I’m quite good at carrying the dead on my shoulders,” Kenobi retorted coolly.

Boba frowned at that, knowing it was most likely the truth. He also knew now that there wasn’t really a decision to be made. The chance of him winning against the Jedi was slim, and if he ran now he would still become an enemy of the Empire but he would have no one to protect him. As proud as he was of his skills he wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t going to take on Vader alone… and hey, if something good did come out of this… “You have a deal,” he muttered.

The Jedi gave him a genuine smile. “Come along then, my friend, we have work to do.”

Boba glared at him. “There are a few things we are going to have to get straight _jeti_ … the first being… we are not friends.”

 

* * *

 

Prince Consort and Senator of Alderaan, Bail Organa, had been quite severely ‘on edge’ since seeing the footage of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi tearing apart the Emperor’s Personal Hangar on the Holonet. His anxiety had become worse after receiving Fulcrum’s report which stated that his old friend had stolen Vader’s ship. He couldn’t help but wonder what on earth had gotten into the Jedi. He hadn’t expected to see or hear from the man until young Luke was of age. Thus, it was both a relief and a surprise when he received a request for contact from the man. A relief because the entire Imperial Navy was now after him and it was wonderful to know that he had, so far, survived. And a surprise because he could not narrow down one thing that the man could want from him.

 _Surely he isn’t looking to join the rebellion now… and who is looking after Luke while he’s busy upsetting the Empire?_ The royal wondered as he paced in front of his private, and most secure, comm table.

 _“Good evening Bail,”_ the blue holographic image of Obi-Wan Kenobi said, as he appeared on the comm with two other figures beside him.

Bail simply stared for a long moment, silenced by his surprise. Donning an outfit fit for a smuggler with a few more lines on his face, the middle-aged man looked very different to the Jedi he remembered. Though, a wave of déjà vu crashed over him as he took a closer look at his old friend’s companions. “Obi-Wan, are you standing with two Fett clones?” he asked, not entirely convinced that he was actually seeing what he was… seeing.

_“Yes… it’s rather a long story, in fact it’s why I’ve commed. I’m in need of assistance, and I sense that the outcome would be good for all involved.”_

“Is the connection secure?’

_“As secure as we can get it. The men have practically taken the entire comm unit on the ship apart and rebuilt it under the watch of myself and my friend here. I am not taking any chances with the lives of others, Bail.”_

The Alderaanian Prince nodded, “Then, explain.”

_“Well, as you are probably aware I have had some rather bad, well luck, for lack of a better word, since leaving my home. I, quite by accident, ended up on Coruscant- er- the Imperial Center and there was this nasty business, but long-story-short I found--“_

_“The kriffing Jedi managed to find himself on Kamino in the middle of a battle between three companies of “Anti-Imperial Clones” and a detachment of the 501 st who had come to wipe them out. He convinced the leader of the detachment to order the 501st to stand down and then had them all re-board their gunships and head back to the carrier. He then worked with them to karking STEAL the ship and managed to enter hyperspace barely a moment before the rest of the fleet began firing on us!”_ the clone to Obi-Wan’s right, who just happened to be wearing Mandalorian armor, cut in rudely. 

Bail opened his mouth and then closed it again, not quite trusting himself to speak. _Perhaps this is some sort of Jedi mid-life crisis… maybe he became bored on Tatooine?_

 _“That is the long and short of it,”_ Obi-Wan agreed.

Bail gaped at him, “So let me get this straight, because Force knows I’m not quite certain that this isn’t all a strange dream,” he told the Jedi honestly. “You are currently on an Imperial Carrier, that you stole, with approximately three companies of Clone Troopers… and is that Boba Fett?”

 _“Yes,”_ Kenobi replied mildly, as though this sort of thing was a normal, everyday occurrence.  " _I have been informed that we have 578 friendly clones on board."_

“So, what exactly do you need from me?” Bail asked as he rubbed at his forehead. He was still finding it hard to believe that, in what seemed to be only a few days, the man had managed to land a blow on the Imperial Center, drag Vader’s attentions away from the rest of the galaxy, steal an Imperial ship, and had apparently amassed a battalion of troopers.

 _He was always an overachiever but this is ridiculous_ he thought. “It seems like you have things under control,” he commented.

The Jedi barked out a laugh. “ _Hardly,”_ he responded, folding his arms across his chest. _“I know this is big ask Bail, but I need you to find these men somewhere to go. I cannot take them back with me, and if I let them go with no guidance they will only be lost or killed. You are welcome to recruit them into whatever rebel cell you are supporting – although I would like you to give them the freedom of choice,”_ he replied. Then he let out a long sigh. _“We also have the rogue cloner masters who created the “Anti-Imperial Clones” on board. They are currently removing chips from the heads of the clones from the detachment of the 501 st. According to my friends here, these chips give the Emperor a way of controlling the clones…”_

Bail closed his eyes. He thought that he was past being surprised by the extent of Palpatine’s wickedness. _How in Corellian Hells did he manage to hide it from us_ , he wondered for not the first time. Shaking his head he refocused on the moment. 

“We aren’t quite ready to upscale our operations but… do you think you could make it to Dantooine?”

The Jedi’s eyebrow’s shot up and a small smile played on his lips. _“I have to make a stop elsewhere first. I’ve run out of time for another… job I’m supposed to be doing. But if you can give me a few days…”_

 

* * *

 

 

Ten-year-old Jyn Erso bit down on her lip as she pulled the last of the ration bars out of the storage box. Her stomach rumbled as she stared down at it, wondering what she would do once it was gone. She supposed if she was desperate enough, she could steal from the next farm… although, she really didn’t want to if she didn’t have to. She knew how dangerous it was outside, plus it was hard making a living out here with the galaxy like it was, she didn’t want to take other people’s food if she didn’t have to. But what else was she to do?

 _I’ve got no-one to turn to,_ she thought, miserably.

A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she buried her face in her hands, ignoring the scratch of the ration bar against her cheek. More tears fell as she thought of her mother who lay silent in the fields not so far from her hiding place, and her Father, stolen by the Empire. She didn’t know what to do without them, they hadn’t told her… hadn’t prepared her for the situation where no-one came. And she wasn’t ready to do this alone.

Falling back into the rickety old chair that sat against the wall, she curled her legs into her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Pressing her forehead into her knees she tried to push though the hunger, and put aside her heartbreak so she could just think, because she had to think of something if she wanted to survive.

It was at that moment that she heard it. A pretty melody that was familiar yet somehow not, and quiet yet somehow loud. But for all it’s confusing qualities there was a comforting serenity that came with the soft tones and as she listened she found herself relaxing. Closing her eyes, she leaned back, letting her head rest against the wall behind her, only to shift suddenly when she felt something poke into the back of her neck.

Jyn slipped the ration bar into her jacket pocket. Then she lifted her hand to the nape of her neck and grabbed at her mother’s necklace, re-positioning the crystal pendant which had become caught between her and the chair. Opening her eyes, she looked at it closely thinking about all the times she had longed to hold it. Her mother had cherished it so much she had been scared to ask, lest she break it. There was a beauty about the clear, uncut crystal that she couldn’t quite explain.

Sinking deeper into the comforting notes of the continuous melody she simply stared at the last gift her mother would give her for a long moment. At least, until a tap on the hatch to her bunker made her lurch forward and crash into the ground. Quickly finding her feet she looked up, watching as the metal top was lifted revealing a relieved looking old man with silver-red hair, a beard and pretty blue-grey eyes.

“Well, hello there,” he said, his voice holding the same accent as her own.

Jyn stared at him, torn. She was so relieved that someone had found her, but at the same time she had no idea who the man was. For all she knew he could be dangerous… he could be an Imperial. “Hello,” she replied quietly.

The man’s eyes softened. “I will not hurt you, young one.”

“How did you find me?” she asked, hoping that maybe her Father had sent him. Maybe he had found out that Saw hadn’t come and he had sent someone else to help her.

“I followed the song,” he replied.

Jyn gaped at him. “You hear it too?” she whispered.

The man smiled and gave a nod. “My name is Ben Kenobi,” he said, “I’m not with the Empire.”

Jyn nodded, somehow sensing that he was telling the truth. “I’ll come up,” she offered quietly, as she tucked her mother’s necklace back into the collar of her jacket. Crossing the room quickly, she climbed up the ladder and scrambled through the hatch. Then she extended her hand to the man. “I’m Jyn Erso,” she told him.

For a second she thought she caught sadness sparkling in his eyes as he looked down at her hand. But when he lifted his gaze to meet hers, she found only warmth and kindness in the blue-grey pools. He took her outstretched hand and gave it a firm but gentle shake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jyn.”


	4. Dantooine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Goodness, I'm sorry. I can't believe it's been a couple of months. I hope this one makes up for it.  
> -A huge thanks to my wonderful beta who not only edited this one, but was the person who prompted me to refocus on getting this chapter done.  
> -Thank you to all the lovely readers who commented/left kudos/bookmarked in the break. I always enjoy reading your thoughts.  
> -And, you can find me on tumblr @misslearn if you want to come say hi :)

 

 

Senator Mon Montha sat quietly at her desk in her lavish office, frowning at the flickering holo image of Bail Organa. The call was unscheduled, the matter unexpected, and she found that she felt quite anxious about what her long-term colleague and friend was proposing. For someone who had always considered herself adaptable, it was quite humbling, but then, the change was very sudden _and_ quite extreme. Crossing her arms inside the billowing sleeves of her white dress, she took in a long, deep breath as she weighted up the pros and cons of his suggestion. Unfortunately, the numerous positives didn’t quite balance out the risk.

“Are you sure about this, Bail?” she asked for what must have been the third time. “The last time you and I discussed this we agreed that the factions were not ready. Not to mention we don’t yet have the facilities to run at that scale yet… and if this goes wrong, it will take _years_ for us to recover.”

_“I am positive, Mon. This is too good an opportunity to pass up!”_

“You certainly have a lot of faith in his abilities,” Mon commented.

Bail chuckled. _“_ _Mon, since he came out of hiding a week ago, he has successfully attacked the Imperial Navy Base on Coruscant, halted a massacre on Kamino, stolen two Imperial ships and has practically created his own Rebel Cell.”_

Mon Montha’s perfectly shaped eyebrows shot up. “I saw the reel of him fighting in the Imperial Hangar on the holonet… but I hadn’t heard all the rest. What happened on Kamino?”

“ _Some wayward Cloners created three companies of ‘Anti-Imperial Clones’. The Empire sent some of the 501 st to deal with them, but Kenobi interfered and now, all who survived are on their way to Dantooine on board the Imperial Starship: 'Vexatious',“_ he explained.

“Impressive,” she muttered quietly, her mind wandering back to farfetched stories that she had heard about ‘The Negotiator’ and ‘The Hero with No Fear.’ Could the former be the one they needed to bring all the Rebels together? If the rumors of his success in negotiation were true then he certainly had the skillset to do so.

 _“Indeed,”_ Bail agreed, startling her out of her thoughts.

“I remember him. I didn’t have many dealings with him, but Padme always spoke highly of him, and I remember that Skywalker and he were highly effective during the war. My main concern is that we are rushing. Now that Master Kenobi has come out of hiding, will he be staying to help?”

Bail shook his head sadly, a frown forming on his face, before he said, _“I don’t think so, Mon. He still serves the Force foremost, and while he is certainly not aligned with the Emperor he also hasn’t agreed to join the Rebellion. Right now, though, his focus is to see_ _that_ _the Clones that accompany him find a place with us or are settled elsewhere, and I believe that he would be willing to help us until that has happened.”_

“It sounds like you are using your old friend to your advantage, Bail,” she pointed out.

 _“What sort of politician would I be if I didn’t?”_ he chuckled in reply. _“Believe me, he knows me well enough to expect a quid pro quo. Perhaps not so soon, but I know he will still oblige us.”_

There was a long pause as Mon Montha considered the positives and negatives of taking the opportunity that they had been presented with, then she gave Bail a single nod. “All right,” she agreed, giving him the go ahead. “I will speak to the other rebel leaders, though I can’t guarantee that everyone will turn up.”

The blue holographic image that was Bail Organa smiled at her. _“I know, Mon. Just do what you can… and we’ll see if Master Kenobi can’t help us with the rest.”_

 

* * *

 

Jyn Erso was laughing so hard that her stomach hurt and happy tears were rolling down her face, and it felt wonderful. The room felt light and warm as her own laughter was joined by the Clone’s snickering, snorting and chuckling. It had been so long since she had felt like this. Unbridled happiness had become such a rarity after her Father had defected from the Empire, taking her Mother and her into hiding. Her parents had been so fixated on the future, always stressing about and planning for the day when the Imperial’s would catch up with them. The looming darkness made it difficult for them to find things to laugh about. But here on the ship, there was enough positivity to counter the misery, enough hope to oppose the regret, and lots of laughter. It made it all bearable, and she was ever-so-thankful to Ben and the Clones.

Though, that didn’t mean that she didn’t miss her family.

Jyn didn’t go a day- _hour-minute_ without remembering her parents, and she still often dissolved into fits of sobs that couldn’t be reasoned away. Her heart ached for what it was missing and her soul felt incomplete without them. But, with the Clones and Ben there were always arms waiting to hold her and a calm voice to comfort her, and it was a million times better than being alone.

 _Things could be worse,_ she thought as she sunk into the happiness radiating from those around her. It was easy to be hopeful while sitting among the hundreds of delighted Clones at dinner time in the ship’s huge galley.

An impromptu sharing session of, what had been dubbed, ‘The Adventures of Kenobi and Skywalker’ was in full swing as some of the older Clones recounted stories from the time they spent under the two Jedi Generals during the Clone Wars. The tales were captivating on their own, but the added exaggerated expressions and hilarious commentary did not go amiss. Everyone listening were either in fits of laughter, or nodding in exasperation because they remembered what it was like to fight under the Hero with No Fear and the Negotiator.

Jyn wasn’t surprised that Ben was avoiding the galley like the Bandonian plague. His preference for peace and quiet was one of the many things that she had noticed about him, and the men were all being so loud that he could probably tell from the Bridge that this was not a place he wanted to visit tonight. It was probably for the best, because he didn’t seem to like attention either.

Despite having rescued and seen to the medical care of hundreds of men, Ben would cringe if any of them suggested that he was a hero. Even a thank you would make him tense unless it was said out of the earshot of others. The Jedi also didn’t like talking about his past, or his future, but was constantly focused on the “here and now”. He did like talking about the Force though… maybe a little too much. Or maybe he just spouted Jedi maxims so that those bothering him would give in to the agony of boredom and leave him be. It made her sad that he would freeze if anyone hugged him, and, how a mention of his past could make him disappear far away, the weight of misery on his shoulders. Especially so because he was proving to be always there for her.

Sometimes she would wake in the middle of the night, her voice hoarse from screaming, to find him next to her bed, his eyes concerned and his hushed whispers of ‘it was just a dream,’ providing more comfort than they should. When she was feeling particularly antisocial, or just couldn’t stop crying, he would let her hide in his rooms, where she would cocoon herself in rugs on the window seat and stare out at the stars. And whenever she started to sink back into the depths of grief, he would suddenly be there, redirecting her attention into a task, or just asking if she wanted to talk.

Jyn absently played with her mother’s necklace as she pondered the mystery that was Old Ben. She didn’t know yet what the future held for her, but she secretly hoped she could stay with the kind Jedi. She hoped that once they found a place for the Clones, Ben might help her find her Father.

 _If he is still alive to find,_ she thought, and she bit down on her lip, her eyes budding with tears.

“Alright, kid?” the Clone Medic, Kix, asked, interrupting her contemplation. Swallowing, she looked up at him and nodded, but she could tell instantly that he knew it was a lie. Luckily the festivities drew his attention away.

“Remember that time that General Skywalker and Commander Tano threw Rex off the wall after blitzing the tinnies at Point Rain," another Clone, whom she thought was called Jesse, cried, saving her from having to voice things that she didn’t want to. Explaining it all once, to Ben, had been enough.

As the crowd became absorbed in the story she glanced around, her gaze stopping when she noticed that the strange Clone that wore Mandalorian Armor. Boba Fett, had silently slipped into the galley and was now heading over to the buffet to collect his latemeal. She watched as he picked a tray, filled it without once looking at anyone and sat down at an empty table in the corner, his back to the rest of the room. Jyn frowned at the sight. He looked – felt? – so lonely. She considered joining him, glancing down at her own meal which she hadn’t really touched, but wasn’t sure how to approach or what to say. Since she’d boarded the ship she’d only heard him speak twice, and both times he wasn’t particularly nice. And while Ben didn’t seem bothered by his condescending tones or his moods, the Clone’s didn’t like him at all.

 _He must have done something terrible,_ she thought, although, she supposed that many of them had probably killed... there was that thing they whispered about... Order Sixty-six. Jyn didn't know what it was, but it had damaged many of them terribly. She knew when people were hurt or scared, they didn't think as per normal. She had seen it in her Mother and her Father during their time in hiding, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was that which was the true cause of the continued rift between the Vode and the Mandalorian.

Resting her knife and fork on the edge of her plate she caught the Clone Medic‘s eye. “Why don't any of you talk to Boba Fett?” she asked. The question was driven more by curiosity than judgement but she wasn’t sure that it had been construed as such.

When the Clones at her table looked at one another with wide eyes and raised brows, she knew it was due to a combination of their surprise at the question, and the fact that she had instigated the conversation. Jyn wasn’t the ‘chatty’ sort. She questioned when necessary and explained when she had to, but she didn’t tell wonderful stories or chat away about nothing. She knew the Clones worried about her silence, but if they’d known her before they would know that it was just the way she was.

Pushing some loose strands of her hair behind her ears, she watched the Clones closely as they let out sighs and shook their heads. For a moment, she thought they were going to tell her that she was too young or that she wouldn’t understand, but then Echo, Kix’s friend, caught her eye. “He’s a traitor,” he told her matter-of-factly, “he is one of us, a brother, but he never fights for us or with us.”

Jyn’s brow furrowed and she canted her head to the side as she thought about this. “He’s here now. Surely that counts for something?”

The brother’s shared looks with one another again, some confused, some angry, some sad… “Yeah it’s something, kid, but if things go as they normally do, he’s going to run as soon things get tough. Fett only looks out for himself.”

Jyn shrugged. “Maybe he will prove you wrong,” she suggested quietly. Then, after grabbing the muja fruit off her tray, she moved to go and sit with the miserable bounty hunter.

_Everyone needs a friend._

 

* * *

 

Boba Fett ground his teeth together. The brat was following him _again_. A ship full of people who were under her spell, who found her quiet curiosity endearing, and yet she chose to spend her time following him around. He, who had absolutely no time for younglings.

It started after she joined him at his table for dinner, the night before last, and she had followed him around since. She wouldn’t explain when asked why, she just looked up at him through her pretty dark eyes and gave him a shy smile. If he growled at her to stop, the orbs would well up with tears, and _sith_ , that was more disabling than Kenobi’s lightsabers.

The Jedi was absolutely no help. He found it amusing that she was determined to keep him company and had straight out told him that he should consider himself fortunate to have made a friend, despite being an absolute barve most of the time. He had scoffed, but if he was honest it wasn’t that far from the truth.

Glancing back, his nostrils flared when the girl stuffed her hands over her mouth to stifle her laughter. For some unknown reason, she seemed to find his reactions to her endeavours amusing. It made him think she was playing some sort of game with him and he couldn’t help but think someone had put her up to it. Possibly Kenobi…but he doubted it; revenge wasn’t the _Jeti_ way. It was more likely the Clones.

Boba had a tenuous relationship with both the Anti-Imperial Clones and the 501st, both of which were angry at him for either killing or causing the deaths of their brothers. If it wasn’t for Kenobi, he was sure they would see him dead and he didn’t think they’d be particularly merciful in the way they went about it. He couldn’t blame them, he had wronged them – his  brothers – in more ways than he could count. So he mostly kept to himself, which wasn’t really any different to normal, though a tiny part of him, buried deep down, wished he could do something to fix it.

The bounty hunter had tried to make amends; he’d even done better than his usual spiel about it not being personal and sort of apologized for what he did. Though, he probably could have done better. If Kenobi’s exasperated look was anything to go by, he could have done way better. But he kind of thought that trying harder was pointless. They weren’t ever going to accept his words anyways. He needed to earn their respect and show them that he regretted what he’d done.

It – regret – was sort of a side effect of spending too much time with Kenobi. He was like some sort of martyr, the way he was looking after the Clones in his care. Half of them kriffing killed his entire _family_ and yet there he was, closely monitoring the Clones mental and physical health like they were all his responsibility. He supposed it was inspiring.

Boba glanced back again, and quirked an eyebrow when the girl looked at him innocently, her hands behind her back and silent laughter in her eyes. “Come on then, ad'ika, let's go see what trouble Kenobi is getting us into now.”

Jyn blinked, then a giant smile blossomed on her face and she ran to catch up, falling into step beside him. It made him feel sort of good, or something, to have made her happy. The first day of travel she had been nervous and so torn up with grief it had almost been hard to look at her. He knew what it was like to have your world ripped out from under your feet, and the Emperor had been about as kind to her as the Jedi had been to him.

Anger surged in veins which caused the girl to startle. He clenched his teeth and breathed through his nose, trying to calm down as he remembered Kenobi’s guidance.

_“Jyn is Force sensitive, she can sense what those around her are feeling and she is currently on a ship full of tired, sad and angry people. If you wish to help her feel better then try to be happy, or at the very least, stay calm.”_

Boba ground his teeth at the memory. Listening to the _Jeti_ ’s chiding felt as much of a betrayal as being here, helping him. Every time he looked at Kenobi his heart roared with accusations. _That man killed Buir! How could you?!_ But he’d found he could reason them away. While Kenobi may have lead the Jedi to his Father, he wasn’t the one who had executed him, and Palpatine had unintentionally seen to Boba’s revenge on the Jedi that had. Actually, dark, mad and ugly had gone a good deal further when he wiped out the whole Order.

Even for Boba it was a bit… extreme. It didn’t make him want to oppose Palpatine, (if anything it was a good reason stay out of his way) but even if he wasn’t a stranger to murder… genocide was a different thing entirely. Still, for a time, it had made his life a lot easier. His bounty hunting went unpoliced and tall, dark and wheezy paid well for those he turned in. The extra cash had allowed him to live a more luxurious life, one that he relished. But, as time passed, his perspective changed. There is only so much suffering you can overlook, and so many betrayals you can make, before it starts to eat at you. Fleeting yet disabling guilt would wrap itself around his neck and chest like a deadly python and dark thoughts would invade his mind, telling him he was worthless, and the galaxy would be better off without him.

Boba knew he had been slowly sinking into one of those moments when Kenobi interrupted him on Kamino. Another day, another time, he would have fought to their death with dull eyes and a detached heart. Perhaps it was because of the Force thing that the Jedi rattled on about. Or maybe it was pure luck. Either way, he was sort of glad that he was offered the chance at being something… _better._ It was all he dared to hope for.

Boba wasn’t stupid enough to think that it was going to happen right away. But, maybe Kenobi was right, and if he stuck with the Jedi _,_ the kid, and the Clones… maybe there was a chance of redemption. Running his fingers through his dark hair, the bounty hunter—former bounty hunter—looked down at the girl and then nodded firmly. While he couldn’t change the past, he was going to do what he could for the future.

_So long as karking Kenobi doesn’t get me killed before I get the chance._

 

* * *

  

Ben sighed as he slipped on his brown leather jacket. When he had bought the practical item, he had optimistically hoped that he would come to feel comfortable in it, but, so far, that wasn’t the case. He still felt awkward and constricted and desperately missed the soft, freer fabric of his Jedi tunics and robe. He would have to find something lighter for back on Tatooine, but it would suffice for now.

 _Space is colder now_ , he noted silently as he zipped up the unfortunate item of clothing.

The Jedi Master knew he was due on the bridge. It wouldn’t be long now until they arrived in Dantooine airspace and he wanted to oversee the drop out of hyperspace. He had a bad feeling, and he was long past doubting them. Something was wrong and if he was going to keep the ship and its occupants safe, as he had promised himself he would, he needed to be there.

After glancing in the small, circular mirror that hung crookedly on the wall next to the entrance to the quarters he had claimed, he found himself searching the small sideboard, that sat below the mirror, for a comb, all the while shaking his head at his own vanity. It had been a long time since he had truly cared about his appearance – when one lives alone in the desert with only ghosts and Bantha for company it really doesn’t seem that necessary. So long as he was clean (which was troublesome due to all the sand), he didn’t care if his hair was windswept or if his beard needed a trim. But, he supposed, it was not good form to meet up with a Senator looking every part the unkempt hermit he had become.

A deep, rumbling chuckle alerted him to the sudden presence of his ethereal Master.

“Surely you have other responsibilities that should be keeping you occupied?” he muttered, glancing at the ghost.

Qui-Gon had the decency to wince, though he didn’t look overly phased by Ben’s implication. “Anakin’s son is currently tucked into his bed, fast asleep. He is safe, dear one.”

Ben merely nodded, his blue-grey eyes returning to the mirror. He had never thought of himself as overly attractive, despite being told otherwise, but he was a little pleased to say that he had aged particularly well. The lines on his face told their stories, but there weren’t so many that he had looked like their notorious Emperor. His skin was drier and far more tanned than it had once been, but it wasn’t torn or blotchy and his red-grey hair and beard was still thick and soft. Dressed in the uncomfortable, yet in vogue (for smugglers and pirates), outfit on he supposed he looked rather…

“Dashing.”

The word made his face heat up, but his embarrassment was quickly replaced by a familiar pain in his chest. Closing his eyes, he collected himself, letting go of the influx of emotion with a single breath. Turning, he smiled as he caught the blue spectre’s eye.

“If only the same could be said for you,” he commented, his eyes twinkling.

“Blue was never my colour,” Qui-Gon agreed, smiling back. “You seem to be in high spirits,” he added, looking somewhat relieved.

Ben collected his lightsaber from the bedside table and clipped it to his belt. “On the contrary, Master, I am quite concerned. I have a bad feeling… and you are here, which can only mean that I’m about to be thrown into yet another dire situation," he snarked, eyeing the ghost warily.

Qui-Gon snorted. “I have complete faith in your ability to survive, Padawan mine.”

Ben let out a sigh and shook his head, resigned. “I have to head to the bridge. Was there a reason for your visit… I am not taking any more detours.”

The ghost smiled serenely. “No detours this time, Obi-Wan. I just thought you would like to know that Kix has been hiding one of the brothers from you. He kindly rescued the unconscious man back on Kamino and has been nursing him back to health in the ship’s engine rooms.”

Ben’s brow creased and his hand rose to rub his beard. “Now why would he do that?” he questioned. “Surely he knows by now that I am more than willing to help.”

“He received some poor advice, I’m afraid. Regardless, the injured man is a danger to you until he has his chip removed.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Ben said, with a sad smile. He turned, and had just reached out for the door release when Qui-Gon spoke again.

“I have to insist that you deal with this matter after the jump out of hyperspace, but I feel that it would be unfair not to tell you that the Clone in question is your old Commander.”

Ben froze, a cold child travelling down his spine. His hand had frozen in the air, the tips of his fingers almost touching the cool, durasteel button. _His_ Commander… _Cody…_

“I believe I better understand Kix’s reluctance to tell me. Thank you, Qui-Gon. I am glad for the opportunity to make peace with my old friend.”

“I come to serve,” his old Master replied with a bow before fading into the shadows of the apartment.

Ben glanced at the clock that hung above the entry door and sighed. There was no way he was going to make it to the Bridge in time. Rushing out the door, he strode through the ships large hallways quickly, the bad feeling in his stomach building the closer he came to his destination.

Suddenly the ship’s shrill warning alarms began ringing, and flashing red lights lit up the hallways. Ben began to sprint, rushing through crowds of Clones who were all moving to their allocated battle stations. He was nearly there when the ship lurched, sending him flying into the wall. He cringed as pain tore through his shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the collision.

 _Of course someone is shooting at us,_  he thought, exasperated,  _I should have never left Tatooine._

“Why are we taking fire?” Ben asked, as he entered the bridge. His second in command, the Clone he had met on Kamino, Captain Kane, looked relieved to see him as he explained their predicament.

“We hopped out of hyper into the middle of a battle, sir. The Imperials appear to know this is a stolen ship, and the rebels don’t…”

“So, both are firing on us!” Boba exclaimed, catching and holding Ben’s eyes just so he could communicate how frustrated he was with the situation.

“Helm – evasive manoeuvres,” he ordered, “Captain Kane, tune into comm channel 732357, the password is Amidala. Please tell them to stop firing on us,” Ben ordered calmly, as he crossed to the large cylinder comm console, just to the right of the center of the room. Boba and young Jyn, who was apparently still following around the bounty hunter, followed him, all taking a place as though they were supposed to be there.

When the Clone gained access the comm burst to life, noise roaring in the ears of all those who were present on the deck. The amount of chatter was both overwhelming and utterly ridiculous. Beings were speaking at the same time, yelling at each other in numerous languages as each tried to get their opinions heard. Listening carefully while the Captain halted the friendly fire, he managed to discern that about four different rebel groups had arrived at roughly the same time and the Imperials had been ready and waiting.

“ _Kriff_! They are _hopeless_. This is why Palpatine doesn’t care – he doesn’t feel threatened,” Boba spat, his top lip twitching with disgust at the Rebel’s ineptness, while Commander Kane barely managed to convinced them to stop firing upon their ship. “All the rebel groups are too far up their own asses to work together. There are some pretty significant players, but unless they band together they haven’t got a chance in hell of bringing down the Empire.”

Ben quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so?” he asked quietly, as he looked back at the comm where numerous voices continued to argue about the best course of action.

The bounty hunter nodded at him, his dark hair swinging into his face. “My advice is to get out of here as soon as possible, before they get us killed, or kill us!” he almost shouted, his eyes set on the forward viewscreen. Ben followed his gaze and watched, mostly unfazed, as Imperial fire rained down on their shields.

“I disagree, we should fight,” a young, firm, accented voice stated. Both he and Boba whipped their heads around to look at the youngling. There was a fire in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before, and her Force presence suddenly exuded certainty and confidence.

“Why is that, young one?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Because the Empire is cruel and wrong, and really, why else would we have arrived like this if we were not to help?” she asked.

Boba scoffed. “This isn’t some fate-deigned moment, this is just bad luck. Probably mine, or Kenobi’s seeing as we’re having a run of it.”

Ben stroked his beard thoughtfully and looked at Kane. “What do you think, Captain?”

“If we could get the Rebels to work together, we might have a chance. The Imperial formation is not one we covered in training but I don’t think a lone ship would stand a chance against it.”

“It’s one of mine,” Ben muttered, startling Kane and Boba. “I did devise a counter-formation that we could utilize, but you are on point, we will require help.”

Boba groaned. “If I wanted to sign up with a Rebellion, Kenobi, I would have done so years ago!” he exclaimed, running one of his hands down his face. Ben had to bite back a laugh when Jyn patted Boba sympathetically only to turn and throw further support at him.

“I think they will listen to you,” she told him, matter-of-factly.

“You do?”

Jyn nodded. “Everyone listens to you. Even he does,” she said pointing up at Fett, “and I’m not certain that he actually likes you.”

Boba scowled. “They aren’t going to let you just take control. So there isn’t any point in sticking around to try.”

Ben rose an eyebrow. He never had been able to resist challenging absolutes. “If you are so certain they will not allow me to lead them, then surely there should be no harm in my trying?” he pointed out to the bounty hunter, even though a part of him was loudly reminding him that this was _not_ what he wanted to be doing. He was _not_ supposed to be leading rebellions or space battles, he was supposed to be back on Tatooine…

Boba crossed his arms across his chest, looking significantly vexed. “No, but they didn’t call you the Negotiator for nothing,” he muttered in reply. The young man then looked down at the girl beside him, who was gazing up at him with disappointment splashed across her young face, and it was all it took for him to break. Throwing his hands up in the air, he growled, “Fine, go ahead, sign us up, I suppose we’re all living on borrowed time anyway!”

Ben tipped his head at the younger man, a smile on his lips as he accepted the consent, even if it was tainted by reluctance and hostility. Ignoring the glare he received in reply, he focused on the comm, pressing the button that would patch him in to the ongoing arguments.

“That is quite enough,” he growled in the firm, commanding tones that had been his so long ago. “Arguing at a time like this is both counterproductive and negligent, you have _beings_ on those ships that you are responsible for. Lives matter far more than your egos, and believe me, Vader already has all of you caught in his formation. _If_ you _all_ wish to survive to fight another day you must work together,” he scolded.

After a moment’s silence a bellowing, _“Who are you?”_ echoed along the channel.

Ben drew in a deep breath and let out all his anxieties out on the exhale, then he replied. “ _I_ am Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, former Jedi High Councillor, former High General of the Grand Army of the Republic, Former Commander of the Open Circle Fleet and famed Negotiator. And _I_ think it’s time that all of you stopped acting like younglings, put aside your differences and show Darth Vader, and the Emperor, what a rebellion really looks like.”

This time, a _long_ radio silence followed, and Ben could feel anticipation building in the Force. He hoped that his name and experience held enough weight that the Rebel factions would be willing to let him take the lead on this one, because he wasn’t sure that they _could_ escape divided. Fortunately, once one Rebel cell came to the table, all the others followed.

 _“The Massassi Group recognize the leadership of Master Kenobi,_ ” a scratchy, deep voice said firmly, breaking the silence.

“ _The Corellian Treaty recognize the leadership of Master Kenobi._ ”

“ _The Commenor Underground recognize the leadership of Master Kenobi._ ”

 _Well then,_ he thought, already wondering how he was going to get himself _out_ of this predicament once the battle was over.

Then Ahsoka’s voice burst across the comms, the sound of her voice making him close his eyes as relief at her continued safety swept over him. 

“ _Phoenix Squadron also recognize the leadership of Master Kenobi_ ,” she declared, confidence ringing in her silvery tones.

Ben opened his eyes to find Boba staring at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. His expression screamed of his disbelief, quite the contrast to young Jyn who stood at the bounty hunter’s side, a rare, true smile on her face and her eyes bright with hope.

“I humbly accept leadership,” Ben replied, “and I cordially welcome you all to the Rebel Alliance.”


	5. Dantooine and Lothal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhhhhhhh it's been a while again! My apologies! This chapter and I have had a few disagreements but we made it so here you are. It's quite lighthearted, despite all the death and destruction that's going on, and hopefully will make you giggle at least once! Thank you to all who commented/kudos'd/bookmarked - you are all wonderful! Oh and quiobi fans I promise that the lack of it here will be somewhat (one of them is a ghost XD) made up for next chapter!
> 
> Also during my research for this chapter I realized that the Free Ryloth Movement was only on Ryloth (which I knew but didn't make the connection last chapter), so I have replaced them with Organa and Mon Montha's starting group naming them after the Treaty that began the Alliance to Restore the Republic.
> 
> Another big thank you to my amazing beta @krikkel who resides over on tumblr! You are the best, truly!
> 
> And if you want to say hi, you can find me on tumblr [here](http://misslearn.tumblr.com/)

 

 

Ben unconsciously stroked his beard as he carefully regarded the large holographic map before him. It showed the real-time placement and movements of _his_ -or perhaps Bail’s- new fleet and their enemy, the Imperial Navy. In a display of typical Clone Trooper efficiency, it had taken Captain Kane just ten minutes to get the leaders of each rebel group to redirect the data and to collate it into a working star-chart for him to use. He was grateful for the information, but _knowing_ that they were trapped was far worse than presuming they were.

The battle strategy that Anakin – no, Vader – had flawlessly employed was a particularly complex encirclement maneuver. It required careful collaboration between all parties in one’s fleet to essentially create a sphere of ships around the enemy. Ben remembered using it twice during the Clone Wars and they had decisively won both battles; because if it was utilized seamlessly it was almost impossible to counter.

Almost.

There was a flaw, a simple one that the Separatists had overlooked, twice. One that he was relying on taking advantage of when he first suggested that there was a way out of this.

But it wasn’t there! Vader had accounted for it!

 _Of course he would remember a theoretical conversation we had one night in the middle of the Clone Wars_ _after forgetting EVERYTHING else I ever taught him!_ Ben thought bitterly.

 If he hadn’t been so livid that Vader was using his ideas, _his teachings,_ to aid the Empire, he might have been impressed with Vader’s improvements to the strategy. But he was livid, so instead he was furiously cursing himself for not killing the Sith when he had the chance.

“Your anger has made you unbalanced,” Qui-Gon whispered in his ear, making him jump in surprise. The words brought the years-old memory of time shared with a certain red and black Zabrak.

 _Did you just quote Maul?_ Ben thought loudly, a little disturbed.

“I’m not sure it matters who said it if it is the truth, Padawan,” Qui-Gon countered.

Ben let out an exasperated sigh which made Boba and the Captain send him worried looks. He waved them off. He knew they couldn’t see or hear the ghost that stood at his shoulder and trying to explain was only going to make them worry _further_ about the state of his mental health.

 _I suppose he was wiser than you,_ Ben ruminated. _He seemed to know to wait for his apprentice._

Qui-Gon huffed. “Patiently, I’m sure. Obi-Wan… let go.”

“How to commune with him I will teach you, he said,” Ben muttered under his breath before following Qui-Gon’s silent instruction to release his anger into the Force.

“Now, _do_ ,” his former Master instructed.

Ben frowned. _You have been spending far too much time with the troll,_ he thought in reply, before refocusing on the problem at hand. If he wasted any more time he was going to start losing ships, and too many lives had been sacrificed already to keep this Force-forsaken Empire.

“Captain. Get me the Massassi Group and the Commenor Underground on the comms. I know what to do.”

 

* * *

 

Darth Vader was shaking with fury as he made his way towards the Bridge of the Imperial Navy’s flag ship. Not five standard minutes ago, he had been in a TIE Fighter (that was not his) fighting against the rebels in the thick of the battle alongside his men. It was where he _wanted_ to be, but apparently one of the Emperor’s Colonels had arrived and had promptly recalled him to the Star Destroyer. Though, they were about to wish they hadn’t.

Slamming his gloved hand into the door release, he swept onto the Bridge his long cloak fluttering behind him and his heavy breathing echoing in the large space. The officers snapped to attention and he could feel their fear and anticipation in the Force. They had worked with him long enough to know that it was unwise to interrupt him and now they were waiting to see whether the newcomer would be on the receiving end of his wrath.

And he would have been, had he not been one of the Sidious’ current favorites.

While Vader had not been directly instructed not to touch the man, he could still feel the echo of pain in the depths of his mind from the last time he tortured and murdered one of his Master’s pets and he wasn’t in a hurry to repeat the experience.

“Yularen?” Vader snarled.

“Ah, Darth Vader, how kind of you to join us,” he replied, looking up into the eyes of his mask evenly.

Vader ground his teeth together. The man had been difficult when he was with the Grand Army of the Republic. Now he was impossible. He treated Vader the _same_ as he had Skywalker, despite having no idea who was hidden behind the suit and helmet. And it was infuriating.

He was not the fool he had been as a young Jedi.

“I have faith in the ability of my men to follow orders, Colonel,” he informed the man coolly.

“As do I. Their execution of the entrapment strategy was impeccable,” he concurred, mildly. “I am particularly impressed with the alterations you have made to General Kenobi’s original stratagem.”

A growl ripped from Vader’s throat at the mention of his old Master, but the man ignored it. It was common knowledge that Obi-Wan Kenobi was number one of Darth Vader’s most wanted list, though very few knew the true reason why.

“I have to say that it was particularly _bold_ to use his own tactics against him. Quite a risk…”

“The strategy is foolproof, Colonel. The _only_ chance in breaking through the formation is if a squad of ships can escape at the top and bottom of the sphere. I have accounted for that by creating an outer sphere. They are as good as dead!” he growled.

“Then perhaps you could explain what the rebels are doing,” Yularen said, his hand sweeping towards the holo-map which showed the rebels dividing and reorganizing themselves in a pattern that suggested that they were preparing a counterattack.

“I have never seen this formation,” Vader admitted, soberly.

“Nor have I,” Yularen replied, his tones almost sympathetic. “My guess is that Kenobi is developing it as we speak.”

Behind his mask, Vader’s face twisted into a snarl. “Which means he has found a weakness.”

“I believe so,” the Colonel agreed. “I’m not sure where but I wouldn’t put it past Kenobi to see something that we cannot. He was quite the strategist. The Jedi knew what they were doing when they installed him as the Commander of the Open Circle Fleet back in the Clone Wars.

“As I recall it he shared the role with Skywalker,” Vader growled, his gloved fingers curling into fists.

“Yes, he did. But General Skywalker was hopeless when it came to battle strategy. It was quite the miracle that he survived as long as he did.”

It took every single ounce of what was left of Vader’s self-control not to Force choke the man to death right there and then.

“Seeing as you are such a fan of the Jedi, perhaps you have a suggestion on how we should respond to this?” Vader growled darkly, his anger leaking into the Force, putting those around him on edge.

“You must admit, he is no fool. How long exactly have you been after him now?” Yularen asked, the implication of his failure hanging in the air between them.

Fury raced along Vader’s veins and his fist came down hard onto the nearest surface. The crumpled console buzzed and hissed as the blinking lights slowly went out. As fear filled the Force, ebbing from the men and women on the Bridge, Vader was pleased to note that the graying Colonel was not as audacious as he attempted to be. For just a moment, his face betrayed his discomfort as he stared at the crumpled console before he quickly composed himself and looked back at Vader’s helmet with his lips twisted into a disapproving frown.

“If he has found a weakness in the formation then our only option is to break it,” Yularen said, wisely answering Vader’s earlier question.

This Sith frowned, his eyes moving to the holo-map. “That would allow them to escape,” he deduced.

“It would, but it would allow us to as well. The best of the fleet are here and you know how the Emperor feels about his favorites. He would not be pleased to take such a loss.”

“He will not be pleased if we let the Rebels escape,” Vader countered, darkly.

“Of course not,” Yularen agreed, “but it is not the worst possible outcome here.”

“You are speaking as though we have already lost, Colonel!” Vader snapped. “Kenobi is only one man.”

“Of course I am! Have you not noticed that the different factions are moving together? Their weakness has been their division. Now that they are united and have a capable leader, the odds are even. Add to equation that Kenobi is moving his forces to counter-attack and we have to assume that we are on the back step.”

“Unless his movements are a bluff,” Vader suggested, although he knew it was doubtful. His old Master had never been so careless in the past.

Yularen considered this for a moment, then shook his head, coming to the same conclusion. “Not once, during my time as Admiral with the GAR, did I see Kenobi risk the lives of his men by bluffing,” he replied. “No, Lord Vader, I am afraid that General Kenobi knows exactly what he’s doing.”

 

* * *

  

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Kenobi answered mildly, not even bothering to turn to look at him.

Boba froze. “What?” the bounty hunter snapped in barely more than a whisper, not wanting the men around them to hear what the Jedi had just declared. “What do you mean you have no idea? Are you saying that that this is- that this is all a bluff!”

The Jedi hummed as he looked at the holo-map. “Not _all_ of it,” he replied, then he pointed at the groups that were setting up at the top and the bottom of the sphere. “I have plans for these two groups, once Vader breaks formation.”

Boba’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “You can’t rely on that! What if he calls your bluff? We’ll be obliterated!”

“If we’re lucky,” Ben agreed calmly.

“What?!” Boba cried. _I knew it, I knew he would get me killed!_

“Calm down, he won’t call my bluff,” Kenobi assured him.

“How could you possibly know that? Please don’t tell me the Force told you?” he asked.

The Jedi’s eyebrows rose and his eyes sparkled with amusement as he pointedly didn’t reply.

“ _Karking-“_ Boba started, but cut off abruptly when he noticed Jyn moving to join them. “Look, I’ve fought enough Jedi to know that the whole Force thing isn’t a sham, but you can’t possibly risk all these lives on the _chance_ that Vader …” trailed off when the girl entered the empty space between them.

“What’s going on?” she asked, looking between them before meeting his gaze. “Why are you upset again?”

Boba blinked, _Again? How does she even…_ He looked at the Jedi and groaned internally. _Damn Force Sensitive Children. Damn Jeti!_

“Nothing you need to worry about, Adika,” he muttered, softly, as he tried to calm himself down.

Jyn glared at him, clearly unimpressed.

“He is merely worried about the plan, young one,” Kenobi informed her.

“Merely!” Boba exclaimed. Not only was he frustrated with the Jedi’s composure, but he also was annoyed that the man had gone ahead and told the girl. Shouldn’t they protect her from all this? He should have never brought her to the bridge!

“Boba is worried that the Imperials won’t break this formation,” Ben explained slowly, pointing to the ships that made up the outer sphere that had them trapped. “If they don’t, we will have no way of escaping.”

“But you think that they will?” she asked, curiosity splashed across her pretty face.

Boba frowned when he realized that there was a method to Kenobi’s madness. Only now did he see that she already knew that things weren’t going well. The flurry of activity, flashing lights and ringing klaxons around them were more than enough to indicate that things were dire. Not to mention that they were taking fire. But the Jedi’s calm words were not only distracting her, they were helping her to understand which, in turn, was reassuring her.

“I do,” Ben replied honestly.

Boba watched as Jyn’s gaze moved from the Jedi to the holo-map. She regarded it quietly for a moment, before looking back at Ben with her brow furrowed.

“It looks like you are about to break through, does it really matter whether they fracture?”

Boba groaned internally as a delighted grin grew on the Jedi’s face.

 

* * *

 

General Jan Dodanna looked pensively at his real-time holo-map, still trying to figure out what Master Kenobi’s plans were. The only way he could see of freeing themselves from the trap, that they had so foolishly let Vader catch them in, was to blast their way through, no doubt losing numerous ships and beings in the process. But Kenobi had them all moving around as though they were just about to launch the biggest counter-offensive of their lifetime and it was making him nervous. The gray-haired human male hadn’t been a subordinate to someone in a very long time and he was finding the impromptu step down challenging.

_Especially seeing that all I know of the man comes from rumors heard during the Clone Wars._

Dodanna let out a sigh and linked his hands behind his back. He could be patient, and there were plenty more important things to think about. There was a steady stream of fire hitting one of his shields no matter where he was in the trap and they were lucky that they had brought enough starfighters to keep the TIEs busy, or they would already all be dead. It was also _lucky_ that Master Kenobi had turned up and brought them all together when he did.

_We would have not have lasted this long as separate cells. Organa was right. It is past time that we banded together._

“Sir, should we turn on the holo-recorders?” one of the young Comm Officers asked, interrupting his thoughts. He found the young man looking up at him from his seat at a console along the starboard side of the Bridge.

Jan hummed pensively and glanced back at the holo-map. He was inclined to say yes because streaming footage of the three largest Rebel Cells working together under a _Jedi_ General onto the holo-net would be invaluable to the cause

“Get Master Kenobi on a separate comm channel,” he ordered instead of replying. He needed to be sure that their new leader believed they would win here. And honestly, he still wanted to know more about the man that he was entrusting his men to.

The Officer nodded and in less than a minute replied with, “Patching him through now, General.”

Jan rose an eyebrow, silently impressed. Getting in touch with the other Rebel leaders had never been so simple. Quite the opposite in fact.

“ _Kenobi here,”_ said the core-world accent that he was becoming familiar with. “ _How can I help you, General Dodanna?_ ”

Both eyebrows shot up this time, and a small smile worked its way onto his lips. The man was clearly the diplomat that the old rumors painted him as.

“I was wondering if you had any concerns about us using our holo-recorders to live-stream this battle on the HoloNet,” he queried steadily.

The man chuckled, not missing the subtle question. _“I have no concerns, General. I will point out, though, that the action may upset Lord Vader… quite a lot”_

Jan Dodanna chortled at that and indicated to the Comms Officer that he should go ahead with his suggestion.

“Master Kenobi, I thought that was what we were here for.”

 

* * *

 

“Mom! You’ve gotta see this!” seven-year-old Ezra Bridger yelled, his bright blue eyes fixated on the screen in front of him.

Still dressed in is sleepwear, the dark-haired Lothalite had been watching his favorite morning program on the Imperial HoloNet when it had been suddenly interrupted with what looked like live streaming from a massive space battle. There was no sound, but he didn’t need it to understand what was going on.

Hundreds of huge Imperial Ships and TIE Fighters had surrounded a massive group of mismatched ships and starfighters. He knew straight away that it must have been one of the Rebel Groups but he couldn’t tell which one. It didn’t matter, so long as they were against the Empire, he was gunning for them!

“Mom!” he called again, _knowing_ that the footage would interest her.

His Mother, Mira Bridger and his Father, Ephraim Bridger, both opposed to the Empire. So much so that they secretly broadcasted pro-revolutionary messages across the HoloNet, trying to inspire those on Lothal (where they lived) and across the galaxy to join the Rebel cause. And while he wasn’t allowed to be part of it yet, he still listened and learned, and he knew he agreed with his parents about the Empire.

“What is it Ezra?” his Mother said, entering the room with a cup of tea cradled in her hands. She had already donned her headdress and was wearing her favorite white and gray tunics and pants.

“Look! _Look!”_ he cried excitedly, pointing at the console.

He watched as his Mom approached slowly, her gaze locked on the screen.

“I don’t believe it,” she whispered after a moment, a smile blooming on her face. “Surely… this can’t be real.”

“Look Mom! The Imps are moving!” he yelled, pointing at the rows of ships that were suddenly changing positions.

Then, suddenly, sound joined the images. The hum of engines and the echoing blasts could be heard behind hurried words.

 _“They are breaking formation, Master!”_ a female cried, her silvery tones slightly altered by the comm she was speaking over.

_“All rebel cells, GO!” ordered a male with a lilting core-world accent._

“Ephraim, get in here!” his Mom yelled, her eyes not leaving the screen.

Ezra’s mouth dropped open as starfighters rushed out of the top and the bottom of the inner sphere like a swarm of bees, circling around the backs of the Imperial Starships and worked in groups to take down as many of the smaller ships as possible. The Rebel Starships then made their way forwards moving in a clever formation that allowed them to protect each other from TIE Fighters with their canons until the star fighters returned.

Then it was on!

_“Massassi Group help Phoenix Squadron with that Star Destroyer, they’re being more than a little reckless taking it on their own.”_

_“Got it,” said a steady male voice._

_“Who? Us? Reckless!” scoffed the female who had spoken earlier, her amusement clear. “Never!”_

_“Hey Reckless, come help with the Destroyer on my flank!” a deep, raspy voice yelled._

_“We’ve got you!”_ cried yet another voice.

“How many rebel groups are there?” his Mom asked his Dad softly. He glanced up to find them standing so close their shoulders touched and their hands knotted together between them as they watched the console with hope shining brightly in their eyes.

“Four or five, but those are some of the key players. This is… this is incredible.”

“They’re standing up,” Mira replied quietly.

A smile grew on Ezra’s face as he watched his Dad gently kiss his Mom’s cheek. Silently he turned back to the battle to watch the starfighters rocket after the TIES.

‘ _So cool_!’ he thought, his smile evolving into a giant grin.

_“All right everyone, I believe it's time to take our leave,” the man who must be the leader said. “Peel off one at a time. Massassi Group, if you don’t mind hanging back with us, we’ll have one last run at Vader’s flag ship while the other’s get away.”_

_“Happy to oblige, General.”_ Ezra watched in awe as starfighters collected around four massive ships as they began a run towards one of the Imperial Destroyers. Red and green fire lit up the dark of space as the fighters threaded through one another, dancing around the larger ships as they attempted to drag the biggest down.

_“Phoenix Squadron, you’re first.”_

_“Didn’t see that coming,” the female snarked. “Stay out of trouble, Master Kenobi.”_

And then, as abruptly as it had started the stream ended and the credits of the holo-cartoon he had been watching began rolling across the screen.

“The Empire were faster this time,” his Dad commented to his Mom, but he didn’t really understand what he meant. As far as he was concerned the whole battle was super cool. He even liked all the people, even though he didn’t really know them. Although, there was one thing that confused him.

 “I don’t understand why that woman kept calling the one who I guess was the leader, Master,” he told his parents. They had sounded like friends, but the only people he could think of that used the title were slaves.

Ezra’s Dad, who was also dressed for the day in his yellow shirts and white harem pants, looked sad for a moment. “If memory serves, Master Kenobi was a Jedi. You’ve learnt about them at school, yes?” he asked gently.

“Oh yeah! But wait- didn’t they betray the Empire- no Republic – or… I can’t remember. Wait, they had the laser swords!”

His Mom hid a chuckle behind her hand as his Dad sighed with exasperation.

“So, you’re saying the man that was in charge has a laser sword?” Ezra asked.

“There is a good chance Master Kenobi carries a lightsaber, yes” his Dad sighed.

“That’s so- wait- so is he leading the rebellion now?” Ezra asked, his mind racing with questions. “I thought you said that all the rebels didn’t like each other? Oh, I guess none of them wanted to mess with a guy with the light sword! You should have thought of that Dad…”

Ezra’s Mom wasn’t even trying to hide her laughter anymore and his Dad looked even more exasperated than before.

“I’m sure that he didn’t need to threaten anyone to get them to work with him, Ezra. He was a high-ranking General during the Clone Wars.”

“Oh,” Ezra muttered, disappointment dulling his excitement. “But Dad, now that the Rebels have joined together… is it the end of the Empire?”

Ephraim frowned and shook his head sadly. “No, Ezra, it’s not the end… but if we’re fortunate, it might just be the beginning of it.”


	6. Gorse and Crait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, commented and bookmarked! I always appreciate feedback :) I'm sorry it's been a while, real life became a little hectic. Things have improved so hopefully I'll have chapters out a bit faster.  
> I don't want to carry on too much but I do have to say that the headline at the start was pinched from John Jackson Miller's book 'Star Wars: A New Dawn'. And, as always, my beta deserves a million thank yous for her editing, and for putting up with me!

 

“ _Emperor unveils_ _ambitious plan for Imperial fleet expansion_ ,” Hera Syndulla read aloud as she scrolled through the headlines on the Imperial holonet. The pretty, green Twi’lek shook her head at the words and sighed. It was news like this that had compelled her to leave home on Ryloth to join the fight against the Empire. She could see the tyranny and the oppression, and as a child of war and rebellion, she felt it was her duty to help, so she contacted a few people and made arrangements to meet with a recruiter on Onderon. Only, before she could get there, her plan was upended by a series of unexpected events that even she was still finding hard to comprehend.

After all, these days, you don’t really expect to find yourself working with a Jedi. Nor do you envision leaving said Jedi (with his lightsabers blazing) in the Empire’s Hangar on the Imperial Center while you escape with a handful of traumatized and memory-wiped Force-sensitive younglings and a few angry and confused passengers.

Hera knew she was damned lucky that her new ship was built for stealth. She wasn’t sure that there was anyone who would make it out of the Imperial Center’s airspace alive once identified as an enemy, so she had thanked every deity she had ever heard of when she noticed the ship’s numerous (illegal) upgrades to its stealth systems. And, with a little help from her droid, Chopper, she had managed to get into hyperspace without any interference. The problem now, was working out where to go next.

Hera had already made a short stop on Onderon, allowing the passengers to disembark and providing her with the opportunity to see if her contact was still planetside. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to find any trace of the rebel in the few days she allowed herself to look. It was too dangerous to stay anywhere too long with the Force-sensitive children in her care, which was why she was currently cruising in real space trying to figure out where was safe to go. 

 _If only Fulcrum would respond to my message, she might be able to help me get these children to their families,_ she thought, frustrated.

“Miss?”

Hera blinked and turned away from the console to look at the human child who had slipped into the seat beside her. At seven-years-old, Ilila was the oldest of the group of younglings that had come into her care, and had become the spokesperson for the group. 

“We should go here,” she said, pointing at the planet on her console that was labelled ‘Gorse’.

Tapping on her own screen, Hera decided quickly that the planet was one of the last places she would have chosen to hide on. It was a mining planet, extremely rich in the raw thorilide (a crystal that once refined was used in the manufacturing of starships) and thus was crawling with Imperials. But, she couldn’t rule it out without asking for an explanation.

“Why?”

The girl shrugged her shoulders. “It feels right,” she answered timidly, her eyes darting to her hands which were folded in her lap.

The Twi’lek pilot studied the child for a moment, wondering what exactly she meant by that. _Maybe it’s her home. Memory wipes aren’t always one hundred percent successful,_ she thought hopefully.

“Is it- is it your home?” she asked delicately.

Ilila shrugged again and Hera spotted tears beginning to trail down her cheeks.

Swallowing back her anger at what had been done to the children, she looked back at the planet on the screen before her, once again noting the huge Imperial presence. “I must be mad,” she muttered under her breath before making a decision.

“Alright,” she agreed, “let’s set a course for Gorse.”

 

* * *

 

Boba was tired and annoyed (again).  He had spent the last forty-five minutes scouring the ship for Kenobi at the behest of Captain Kane. They were approaching Crait, a small, remote planet where the Rebels were in the process of setting up an outpost, and Kenobi had apparently told Kane to contact him when they were about to breach the atmosphere. Only, sometime after giving the instruction the Jedi had turned off his commlink and disappeared. And, seeing as Boba was the only one who had nothing else to do, Captain Kane decided that he should be the one to go find him.

It served him right, he supposed. He should have got off the Bridge and gone back to his quarters and tried to get some shut eye, like the Jedi had suggested, but he hadn’t had more than a few hours a night since the battle a week ago and he didn’t really see the point in trying.

Boba knew this bout of insomnia was due to stress. He was terrified of what might happen if he went to sleep. With Kenobi’s current ‘it’s the will of the Force’ attitude, he just couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t wake up to find them leading an attack on the Imperial Center!

“Oi Fett!”

Boba turned to find Jesse, one of the Clones that was friends with Jyn, approaching him quickly. He squared his shoulders and rested his hand on his sidearm. While the bad blood between he and the Clones seemed to have lessened (due to Kenobi and Jyn’s combined efforts), he still often felt unsure of their intent. It was one of the reasons he spent so much time on the Bridge… not that he was scared or anything. It was just a survival tactic.

“What do you want?”

The Clone frowned at him and he could practically hear Kenobi in his head chiding him for being impolite.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, only half meaning it.

“It’s okay. I get it,” the Clone replied quickly. “Just wanted to let you know that General Kenobi is waiting for you in the medbay. Said you’d been looking for him for a while and ordered me to put you out of your misery.”

Boba grit his teeth to stop himself from cursing.

Jesse flashed a sympathetic smile. “I’ve been on ‘find the Jedi’ duty before. It’s damn near impossible if they don’t want to be found,” he informed him good-naturedly.

“No kidding,” Fett replied shortly.

Jesse chuckled. “C’mon. I’ll show you the way.”

Boba nodded and quietly followed the friendly Clone along the long corridors and through a set of doors that had ‘Med-Bay 001’ painted on the front of them in yellow.  He was then led between two rows of curtained off beds, many off which seemed to be taken, until they reached a door at the end of the rectangular space. Entering into a small anteroom with two windows and two doors on the left and right side, he realized that it was an isolation space.

Kenobi was standing in front of a window, looking into one of the rooms. He was clearly lost in thought, his right hand was stroking his beard while his left was wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Sir,” Jesse interrupted softly.

“Hmm.” The Jedi didn’t turn which was unusual. The man was usually polite to a fault… so his slip made Boba extremely curious about what was happening inside the isolation room. His position didn’t provide a good angle for him to get a good look at anything other than the end of a medical cot and a couple of monitors that blinked brightly with readouts on the room’s back wall.

“I’ve brought Fett, as instructed,” Jesse told him, puffing up proudly.

Kenobi blinked quickly and turned to look at them both. “Ah, thank you, Jesse, I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem, Sir,” Jesse responded with a respectful tip of his head. “If that’s all, I will return to my duties.”

“Of course.”

Boba’s lingering anger at the Jedi all but fizzled away when he looked back at Kenobi to find he had turned back to the window, sadness shining in his eyes. It was a little disconcerting to see the broken man that hid behind the mask of calm and confidence that Kenobi donned, and he found himself wanting to fix things, not make them worse.

Moving closer so he could follow the man’s gaze, the former bounty hunter found himself looking at a Clone who was tossing and turning restlessly in his sleep. He had a bandage wrapped around his head, which Boba assumed meant he had only just had his chip removed. And based on the number of machines that were attached to him, and the way he was restrained, he guessed it hadn’t gone so well.

“Is he alright?” he asked, knowing it wasn’t the best question but not sure how else to start.

“No,” Kenobi replied bluntly

Boba eyed the Jedi suspiciously. Not once since he had signed up for this insane ride had the man snapped at him.

“Will he be?”

The question had the desired effect, dragging Kenobi out of the past by forcing him to think about the future. 

“I honestly don’t know, but…”

“You hope so,” Boba finished. “So he’s a friend of yours?”

Kenobi stared at him for a moment before he shook his head, a small, sad smile gracing his lips. “A brother, actually,” he replied, “He and I fought side by side in the Clone Wars. He was my commander until Palpatine ordered him to initiate Order Sixty-Six…”

Boba’s eyes widened. “So he… he was the one that… kriff no wonder he’s not looking so…” he trailed off when he remembered what the man had initiated. “Did he try to kill you?”

“Yes, and he was very nearly successful,” Kenobi admitted, turning back to observe the Clone. For a fleeting moment he looked ashamed and Boba got the impression that there had been plenty of days in the past when Kenobi had wished that the Clone hadn’t failed.

“And now? Why’s he in there? Did the surgery not work for him like it did the others?”

“He’s being observed. The sudden return of memories was… too much.”

“Oh,” Boba replied, unable to find anything else to say. Of course they would struggle. The chips made them slaughter the Jedi! Suddenly recalling that fact must be unbearable. Especially if they were as close to the Jedi as they always seemed to be.

“He’s not the first, and won’t be the last, but his response has been the worst so far. As he was responsible for passing the order through the ranks, he currently feels as though he was behind every murder."

The way he said it - Boba got the impression that Kenobi knew _exactly_ how the Clone felt, which was more than a little depressing. Once again, it made him want to reassure him that everything would be fine, but it would be a lie. None of them were fine _… still…_

“With a bit of support and time, I reckon he’ll be some sort of version of alright,” Boba muttered, shrugging awkwardly when Kenobi moved his gaze to him once more. “It’s better than not… than not being alright,” he added, turning away as heat began rising in his cheeks. He definitely didn’t come down here to discuss _his_ feelings with the Jedi… _Oh, Kriff!_ “Captain Kane said to tell you that we are approaching Crait,” he blurted as he suddenly recalled what he _had_ come down there to do, “But I reckon we must be about to land by now.”

Kenobi slowly raised an eyebrow and Boba watched on, fascinated, as his mask slipped back into place. “Well then, we had best return to the bridge. I just need to let the medics know that I’m leaving so that someone can replace me, if you wouldn’t mind waiting a moment.”

Boba pursed his lips as the Jedi glanced at the Clone once more and he sighed inwardly, wondering why he always felt so obliged to do the right thing in Kenobi’s presence.

“I can stay. I think the Captain will prefer it – he only tolerates me really -, and I’m pretty sure that your rebels aren’t going to very happy to see me. So until you’ve worked some mind tricks or whatever it is you do to convince people to get along, I’ll stay,” he reasoned, just as much to himself as to the Jedi. Avoiding Kenobi’s gaze (which he assumed was now locked onto him), he quickly moved to pull a chair from a stack in the back corner and set it in front of the window then dropped himself into it. “Just tell Jyn I’m busy for a while… I’ll send for you if anything happens, or if I get bored… or whatever.”

“Thank you Boba,” the Jedi said, his eyes twinkling with something else… something he didn’t immediately recognize. Actually, it wasn’t until much, much later that he realized... it was pride.

 

* * *

 

Kanan Jarrus was more puzzled than surprised when the Twi’lek pilot slipped into the seat across from him as soon as his friend, Okadiah, left it. His memory of the evening was a little blurry (it was late and Okadiah had been topping up his glass all night) but he was sure they hadn’t met yet, despite the fact that she had been watching him from across the busy Cantina since she arrived.

It was one of the reasons he had been happy to down the extra alcohol. He was absolutely terrified that she was some super undercover agent sent by the Empire to drag him back to Darth Vader and the Emperor. Not that she looked like a super undercover agent, but then he supposed no one really knew what they looked like.

“Hi,” she said awkwardly, making him reassess his conclusion. _Maybe she wants me for something else_ , he thought and a dopey grin started to spread across his face. He was trying not to be big-headed but hey, it wouldn’t be the first time he had been approached for _that_.

“Get your mind out of the gutter!” she growled, rolling her eyes. “I’m only over here talking to you because I have it on good authority that you’re Force-Sensitive,” she added, extremely quietly. So quietly, in fact, that he wouldn’t have been able to hear her if he hadn’t instinctively used a touch of the Force to strengthen his hearing... which he wouldn’t have done if he wasn’t so inebriated.

Rising so quickly his seat toppled to the floor behind him, he staggered back with his arms in front of him. “I-I- I've got to go-“ he stuttered, wishing he was brave enough to purge the alcohol… But he had already messed up once, if there did happen to be an actual su- Imperial Force Adept around he was in deep trouble.

“Wait!” she cried, standing too and reaching out for him, “please!”

The Twi’lek’s cry was so loud that the whole bar was now silent, the rowdy fifth-day night patrons pausing in their celebrations to nose into his business. Most knew him, he was a regular (only because he lived next door), and they were clearly interested in knowing what the attractive pilot wanted with him. After all, he was a nobody… he went out of his way to make sure he was a nobody!

 _So how does she know that I’m Force-sensitive_? he wondered, eyeing her far more critically than he had done earlier.

“I just want to talk to him!” she yelled, glaring at those who were still watching them. The command in her tone and the way she held herself made her come across as far more imposing than expected, so much so that eyes whipped away and the usual loud hum returned.

“Who are you?” he asked slowly.

The Twi’lek’s lips thinned and she pointedly glanced around at the other patrons. “Can we have this conversation somewhere else?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I live next door,” he replied nodding towards he back exit.

The pilot’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m drunk, but I’m not like that.”

She eyed him warily for a moment longer before apparently deciding he wasn’t a threat and stomped off, walking out of the Cantina.

Sighing, Kanan followed, trying to ignore the way the room seemed to spin if he made any sudden movement or sharp turns. The walk across the larfe room proved to be more challenging than ever before, but he made it out of the bar without falling so he considered that a win. However, his new friend didn’t seem to be impressed at all by his efforts.

The Twi’lek was waiting, leaned against the alley wall with her arms crossed, and the look on her face clearly expressed her exasperation with the entire situation. It made him pause as it implied that someone had pointed her in his direction, and that she was disappointed with what she had found. He couldn’t blame her, but it stung a little. He was only trying to survive.

 _Because that’s what Master wanted,_ he thought, reasoning away the guilt that crashed over him like an avalanche.

“This way,” he mumbled, moving past her quickly to hide the water that was suddenly in his eyes.  

Pulling a keycard out of his pocket, he lead her around the corner to the entrance of his narrow townhouse and opened the door. Stumbling inside, he moved straight into the small kitchen to get a large glass of water.  She followed him quietly, glancing around his space curiously. Following her gaze with his own, he decided that she was probably taking note of his complete lack of possessions; there were no holos or mementos on the shelves or benches, and no artwork on the walls. It was a habit from his past that he wasn’t able to break, and it made it easy to leave quickly if he had to.

Taking a long sip of water he looked back at her to find her leaned against the bench, her arms folded lazily across her waist and her sea-green gaze settled on him.

“Would you like one?” he asked, pointing at the water with his free hand as he belatedly remembered his manners.

“No,” she replied curtly.

“Okay then,” he replied with a shrug (he wouldn’t take a drink from a complete stranger either, even if he had seen them pour it). “So who are you and what _do_ you want then?”

The Twi’lek sighed and brought a hand up to rub her forehead. “My name is Hera, and I’m here because someone told me you might be able to help me…” She trailed off, again discernibly uncertain about the advice she was given, which made him react in a way that he hadn’t since he was an initiate in the Temple.

“Look, it’s been a long week, okay, and I don’t normally drink like-“ he cut himself off, shaking his head. He didn’t have to explain himself to her, nor did he have to help her! Kanan’s brow furrowed. _What did she want help with again?_

“I- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be rude,” she apologized suddenly, “It’s just, you’re not exactly what I was expecting. Not that I knew what to expect really… Oh this is ridiculous! I- I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

As Hera went to leave, the Force surged so forcefully he nearly fell out of his seat and a loud, “Wait!” came tumbling out of his mouth before he could process what had happened. _The Force wants me to help her,_ he realized, which was nothing short of amazing because the Force’s will hadn’t been so clear for years.

“Look- How about we try this again,” he suggested, feeling a little like he had no other choice. “I’m Kanan and, seeing as you don’t seem to be a Super- er- an Imperial Agent… your source was right. I am Force-sensitive and, if I can, I’ll help you.”

Hope danced in the pilot’s eyes as she flashed him a thankful smile.  And the way it lit up her pretty face… he just knew that everything was about to change.

 

* * *

 

Jyn chewed on her lip thoughtfully as she tried to decide which way to turn now. She had managed to get herself lost and was now wandering the maze of corridors of the Crait Rebel Base trying to find her way back to the hangar.

The ten-year old wasn’t overly worried about her predicament. She had a feeling that Ben knew exactly where she was and would come and find her eventually, hopefully after he’d finished his conversation with Senator Organa and Dravits Dravis. They had been there a week, and every single time she had chosen to follow Ben around for the day, she had been stuck in meeting after meeting. She really wished someone would _do_ something, but Ben said that came later. For now it was all collation of intel and negotiation which she was finding more and more tedious to be a part of. She honestly didn’t know how Ben continued to be so interested when every time a new Rebel group arrived, or contacted them, he had to go through the same rigmarole.

Turning down another corridor, she passed a Mon Calamarian leaving a room that in a glance seemed far more interesting than anything she had seen so far. Slipping inside, she let out a quiet “wow” when she looked around at the numerous glowing boards and giant holograms of planets which she guessed the rebel groups were researching for one reason or another. Quietly, she moved from one to the next, whispering the names to herself.

“Dantooine, Endor, Gorse, Lothal-“

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be in here!” A voice from behind her snapped, making her jump. She spun around to face a boy, who couldn’t be much older than her. He was dressed in brown pants, light brown shirt and a brown cotton jacket that she had seen on a few of the other rebels around the place. His dark hair was combed to the side neatly and his dark eyes were narrowed suspiciously.

“I’m lost,” she offered, a little pathetically, but she figured it was as close to the truth she was going to get without admitting that she was as curious as a lothcat.

“Really?” he asked slowly, his eyes narrowing even further. Clearly, he didn’t believe her, but then, everyone on the base seemed a little jumpy. She supposed it was to be expected considering what they were all doing here. And their recent unexpected move from Dantooine probably didn’t help everyone’s anxiety levels.

“Yes. Maybe you could help me? I’ve been trying to find my way back to the hangar for over an hour now,” she replied, looking at him hopefully. 

“The Hangar,” he repeated in his smooth accent. It wasn’t one she recognized and she was instantly curious about his story. If she was right about him being a rebel, how had he come to be one so young? Did all the rebels enlist children, or just some groups?

 _I wonder if any would train me so that I can rescue my Father,_ she thought distractedly.

“Yes, or the Control Room. I’m supposed to stay with Ben or Boba while we’re here, actually I really should be getting back to them. So if you can’t help me…” Trailing off she turned to leave, but was forced to halt when the boy reached out and grabbed her arm.

She stared at it, considering whether or not she should punch him and run.  Ben probably wouldn’t approve, but she was sure she would get a grin out of Boba. “What?”

“How do I know you’re not a spy?”

Jyn blinked. “Um- I’m ten.”

“That’s hardly proof.”

“How many spies do you know that are ten?” she asked incredulously.

“That’s classified,” he replied so coolly, so seriously, that she didn’t know what to say.

 _Apparently there is at least one rebel group who would train me,_ Jyn concluded, but she doubted she would be signing herself up. _They probably wouldn’t like my reasons for joining. It looks as though complete dedication to the cause is a prerequisite._

“Alright,” she replied finally. “Well, I’m afraid I’m not a spy. My name is Jyn and I arrived with General Kenobi. So if you could help me find my way back to the hangar – to the Vexatious - I’d truly appreciate it.”

For a moment he simply studied her, then he nodded. “Cassian Andor,” he said holding out his hand.

“Oh um- nice to meet you,” she stuttered, shaking it politely.

“The hangar is this way,” he told her, ushering her out the door. “I apologize for the questions, we just can’t be too careful. Especially now that things are… changing.”

Jyn nodded. She knew what it was like to hide from the Empire - How little trust could be afforded. She also knew the toll it took, and the cost of trusting the wrong person.

“So… how did you wind up here? You don’t look like a Jedi…”

Jyn’s brow furrowed. At first she was confused by the thought, but then she realized that out of all the beings that arrived with Ben, Boba and she were the only two who weren’t clones… _Okay, maybe just me,_ she corrected. “Master Kenobi found me after I lost my parents, and he’s been looking after me ever since,” she explained, trying not to give too many details.

Just before they had arrived on Crait, Ben had pulled her aside and quietly made her promise not to give out her last name, or speak of her family, until they knew they could trust everyone. In return for her silence, he promised to ask an old friend of his to see if he could find out what had happened to her father… and to the man who hadn’t turned up to collect her.

When she turned her attentions back to Cassian she realized that he was far away, thinking about another place and time. “What about you?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts. “How did you become a rebel?”

“I was recruited,” he replied shortly, ending the conversation by giving her as much information as she had him.

 _Trust goes both ways,_ she reminded herself before accepting that she would be walking the rest of the way back to the ship in silence.

 

* * *

 

Were Qui-Gon Jinn still alive, he imagined he would be quite apprehensive about his imminent meeting with his former Padawan. The news he had was not going to please Obi-Wan and he disliked the thought of putting anything else between them. Time moved strangely when one was dead so he couldn’t be sure, but it seemed so recently that Obi-Wan had forgiven him for his many oversights during his life and he loathed the thought of destroying the almost-peace they had found. However, _not_ divulging his news to Obi-Wan would end in far worse consequences; ones that the Force, he, and no doubt Obi-Wan, could not allow, so all he could do was hold onto hope that the living Jedi Master wouldn’t collapse under the weight of it all.

 _Force forbid he be too late,_ Qui-Gon thought as he silently (and invisibly) floated behind Obi-Wan as the Jedi headed back to the quarters he had recently been given on the Crait Rebel Base.

“You’re here,” Obi-Wan stated, as he made himself a cup of tea at the tiny kitchenette in the front corner of the shoebox that was his room.

“I am,” Qui-Gon agreed, quickly making himself visible.

“Is this a personal visit or does _the Force_ require something else of me?” Obi-Wan asked, his tone (and the dark lines under his eyes) revealing his exhaustion.

“Luke is in trouble.”

Obi-Wan froze, his hand hovering over his tea, teaspoon pressed between his thumb and pointer finger, and his mouth parted slightly. Then dread began to work its way into his handsome features. “Tell me what I need I to know,” he ordered, as he quickly moved past the shock.

“There has been some conflict between the Hutts and the Farmers over an increase in an illegal water tax. Luke has snuck away from his Aunt and Uncle, and is making his way to Jabba’s palace as we speak. He hopes to negotiate with the Hutts, but we both know how well that’s going to go…”

Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed dangerously, then he moved to the console that sat on a desk on the opposite side of the room, leaving the tea half made on the counter. “They will enslave him in a heartbeat and we’ll have only a few days before he’ll be sold,” he finished as he tapped away. “Tatooine is three days away… _Force_ Qui-Gon!”

“You will have to entrust him to someone else.” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them. He knew that Obi-Wan had begun to consider staying on with the rebels; they needed him more than the young Skywalker and, a Jedi at heart, he was finding it more and more difficult to even consider making the selfish choice. But this turned the tables, because it confirmed what Obi-Wan knew all along. 

“I did,” Obi-Wan snapped, making Qui-Gon wince. The movement momentarily distracted his thoughts because it was such a non-sensical thing. The comment didn’t really hurt (because in the Force nothing did) but he knew it should, so it did. It was a rare thing which made it fascinating, but not nearly so much as the fact that they only ever happened around Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon often wondered if it was because of his feelings for the man. The flame that he had carried for his Padawan towards the end of their time together had only grown stronger over the years as he watched his student turn into an incredible Jedi, and a good man. Then, during one of their many discussions on Tatooine, Obi-Wan had revealed that he returned his feelings and the flame had burst into a roaring fire. Even as one of the departed, it was overwhelming, and it made him wonder if the concept of soul mates was quite as farfetched as he once thought.

 _It would certainly explain why the distance between us hurts Obi-Wan so much,_ he thought sadly.

The endless peace that being one with the Force allowed him meant that he needed nothing more or less than his love for the man, but Obi-Wan had suffered so much loss, and there were times that Qui-Gon’s state-of-being was upsetting.

“I know, dear one,” he replied guiltily, “but I’m sure a solution will present itself.”

Obi-Wan turned away from the console simply to glare at him. Then he used the Force to summon his comm to his hand and after tapping through a few options, he called his Captain.

“ _Sir?”_

“I need to know if there are any rebel groups near Tatooine?”

“ _Two seconds, General_ ,” the Clone replied dutifully.

Obi-Wan waited with bated breath, letting it go in a long sigh when the Captain replied with, “ _Phoenix Squadron are the closest, they’re just under a day away, sir_.”

“Please open a private channel with myself and Fulcrum.”

“ _Yes sir_!”

“And Captain, begin making preparations to leave. We will be shipping out for Tatooine in one standard hour.”

There was a beat then, “ _Oh- Um- What should I tell the Rebels sir? If they ask why?_ ”

Obi-Wan rubbed his beard pensively for a moment before his lips thinned and a look of resignation settled on his face.  “Tell them we’re going to… negotiate… with the Hutts.”

“ _Aggressively_?” the Captain replied wittily.

The ghost chuckled quietly, watching on as Obi-Wan chose not to reply. “Just get me that line, Captain,” he ordered.

Placing the comm on the desk, he scrubbed his hands down his face. “Remind me that I need to shut down that Kenobi and Skywalker night the Clones hold,” Obi-Wan told him, distracted by his captain’s comment. Then he caught up. “A solution?” he repeated belatedly, turning to eye him suspiciously. “You knew…”

Obi-Wan’s commlink began to blip, saving him from having to reply. “I’ll watch over Luke until Ahsoka arrives,” he whispered instead, then faded back into the Force, returning to the deserts of Tatooine.


End file.
